Choices
by musicprincess1990
Summary: Rory's life is perfect, until her boyfriend, Dean, breaks up with her. In an attempt to win him back, she enlists the help of Jess, her best friend. Full summary inside. Based on a You Tube video by popcan11. Slightly AU. Rated M because I'm paranoid.
1. The BreakUp

Full Summary: Rory's life is perfect, until her boyfriend, Dean, breaks up with her. In an attempt to win him back, she enlists the help of Jess, her best friend. Their plan goes awry, however, when it becomes clear that her feelings for her friend, as well as his feelings for her, aren't as platonic as she thought.

A/N: First of all, credit where credit is due. The characters, and some of the scenes and **bolded dialogue** belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino, the incredible mastermind behind the _Gilmore Girls_ series. The inspiration for this story came from the fan-made movie trailer, "Choices (#1)" on You Tube, made by popcan11. I've received permission to post this story, so everything's all legal and tidy. I'm really excited about this one! :D Hope you enjoy!

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><p>You know how some people brag about how wonderful their life is? They've got the looks, the jobschool, the friends, the family life... everything just seems to be in the right place, and they've practically got the world in their hands.

Well, that's how my life was... until my senior year of high school.

The year started out great. I was Chilton's Student Body Vice President—after much cajoling (or demanding) from Paris, who was the President—and though I didn't have a _lot_ of friends, the ones I had were _real_ friends.

There was, of course, my mother, the one and only person whom I unabashedly idolized. She was my pal, my confidant, my true best friend. I couldn't picture life without her, and quite frankly, I didn't want to. It was just too painful.

Then there was Lane; she fit into the category of "Female Teen Best Friend." I could talk to her about _almost_ anything. I went to her with most of my boy drama, though I often did tell my mother, as well, and we spent more time than I could measure in her room or mine, listening (very quietly) to all kinds of forbidden music, and talking about what was new in our lives.

And then, there was Jess. He was a new friend, compared to Lane and my mom, as he'd only been in Stars Hollow for a year. But he filled the "Male Teen Best Friend" slot perfectly. Like Lane, we had the same taste in music and books and such, but we also had some thoroughly enjoyable verbal spats that could last for hours. They never amounted to much, just some mild bickering between friends. And he never pressured me for details, when I happened to go to him when I was hurt or angry. He just listened to what I was willing to tell him, offered advice when I asked for it—which, it often turned out, was the _best_ advice I'd get from anyone—and in general, he was just _there_. Sometimes that was all I really needed. And I was there for him, too, when he needed it. It was a very symbiotic friendship.

On top of these things, I was a beloved and prominent member of my town, and quite possibly the most ambitious and successful teenager that had ever lived there.

And _then_, there was Dean. Perfect, dependable, sweet, loving Dean. He had that tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him—standing at a rather intimidating six feet and two inches—and from the very beginning, he'd captured my interest, my breath, my heart. We didn't have a whole lot in common, but despite that, we had some good times. No, not like that, you perv. We went to a lot of movies, dinner, talking about nothing, and the odd make-out session here and there. And I was in the process of educating him, introducing him to Tolstoy and Björk and lots of other things that were big contributors to my person. I took my books, and my music, very seriously. But he seemed willing to learn, for the most part.

Everything seemed perfect, until the Stars Hollow Dance Marathon rolled around. My mom had been desperate for the "big, fancy trophy" for the last five years, and she was determined to win it this year. Her plan? Dance with _me_.

Joy.

Unfortunately, her logic, and her pouty, pleading smile were just too much for me to resist, so I reluctantly agreed. And now, I was _really_ starting to regret it. We were in the lavishly decorated gym at Stars Hollow High, and I was pretty sure I'd lost all the feeling in every single one of my toes. My heels were only two inches high, for God's sake! How the hell does that work? Mom must have been dying, because her heels were _way_ higher, and several years older. Yes, _years_. She bought _vintage_ heels. And I was just waiting for the inevitable.

Glenn Miller's "In the Mood" echoed through the gym, the repeated motive lulling me into an exhausted half-slumber, while I still fought to move my feet. Mom's arm was loosely wrapped around my waist, and mine was draped over her shoulders, both of us attempting to stay upright. It was just barely working.

"**Tell me a joke**," she mumbled sleepily.

_Really, Mom? Ugh... okay, think of a joke. Um..._ "**Knock, knock**."

To my surprise, she began giggling incessantly, swaying a bit as she did. "**That's a good one**," she gasped, and suddenly, I joined in her laughter. Neither of us had any idea why it was so funny, but we just couldn't stop laughing.

Then there was a snapping sound, and Mom gave a different gasp, nearly losing her footing. "**You okay?**" I asked.

"**Oh, no!**" was her reply. "**My heel broke!**" she announced, bending down to pick up the heel in question. "**Damn, these are brand new shoes, too!**"

I frowned. "**They were made in 1943**," I pointed out.

She gave a little pout. "**Well, I just bought them Tuesday!**"

"**I told you not to wear vintage shoes.**" _Ten points to me for being right_.

"**But the lady at the store said they hadn't been worn a lot!**"

"**Yeah, but not a lot in sixty years is still a lot.**"

Mom glanced frantically around the gym. "**I gotta fix them**," she said, then gasped yet again, this time excitedly. "**I'll use my emergency card!**" As she spoke, she reached into her cleavage—real classy—and produced the yellow ten-minute card all the dancers had been given. She started to move away. "**I'll be right back.**"

That woke me up a bit. "**No, stop! If you go, there's no way I'll be able to stand up on my own!**"

"**Ten minutes!**"

I laid my head on her shoulder. "**Nighty-night.**"

She sighed. "**Fine.**" I was vaguely aware of her calling Dean over, and the next thing I knew, I was being pressed against a rock-hard chest. My mouth curled into a small, tired smile, and I snuggled closer. I could hear Mom persuading Dean to stay here, and I knew it wouldn't be long before he caved. Lorelai Gilmore was nothing if not a brilliantly persuasive individual.

After a few minutes, I opened my eyes to see how close Mom was to being done. In the process, two familiar faces caught my eye. The first was Jess, watching us both with an amused smile on his face. He hated these town shindigs, but I'd asked him to come and support me and my mom, so he had. He was a good friend.

The second face, however, I was less than pleased to see. It was Shane, Jess's flavor of the month. He had a lot of girlfriends, though none of them were serious. I'd liked most of them, though I never got too close to them, knowing she wouldn't be his girlfriend much longer. But I'd had the hardest time liking Shane. She was snotty, conceited, even more fashion-obsessed than my mother—without the flawless sense of style—and she seemed very _clingy_. She was always popping up unexpectedly, and fusing her lips to his. He didn't seem to mind, which was all the more frustrating and confusing. I knew Jess; I knew him better than anyone. I knew he didn't like it when girls were all over him. He liked personal space, he liked time to himself. So why was he letting her invade his bubble?

"Ugh, why did he bring _her?_" I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

I struggled to lift my head, looking Dean in the eye. "Jess brought Shane," I pointed out. "Why did he have to bring Shane? I can't _stand_ that girl."

Dean sighed. "Just ignore her."

"Yeah," I mumbled, but my eyes inadvertently flitted back to them, just as Shane sat up straight, leaning over to Jess, who was lost in Ernest Hemingway. (A/N: I don't know if that's really what he's reading, but let's pretend it is, 'cause it sounds cool.)

"Oh, my _God_," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I swear, she's all over him! What, is she just out of prison or something?"

"Okay, that's it!" Dean snapped, pushing me away. "I'm tired of this!"

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

**"You don't want to be with me, Rory!**" he shouted. "**Everyone can see it!**"

"Yes, I do!" I could feel the tears threatening.

He laughed and shook his head. "No, you really don't. So you know what? I'm going to give you what you want. We're not together anymore, as of _right now_." And with that, he turned around, picking up his jacket and leaving the gym. I stood in silence for several minutes, staring at the place where he'd just been standing.

"Rory?" I heard someone call.

At that moment, the reality came crashing down on me. Before anyone could see my tears, I ran out of the school, toward the lake, and the bridge. I fell to my knees, not caring if I tore my pantyhose, and cried for I don't even know how long. When I felt like I had some control over myself, I scooted over on the bridge, swinging my legs over the edge. It was quiet, other than the occasional sniffle coming from myself.

I spotted movement in the corner of my eye, and glanced at the calm, reflective surface of the lake. Jess strolled across the bridge to where I sat, his hand deep in his pockets. He didn't say anything for a while, just looked at the water. Then, after a moment, he spoke.

"**Dean's a jerk**," he said simply. "**Yelling at you like that... breaking up in front of everybody... the guy's a total jerk.**"

I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but it really wasn't working. "**No, he's not**," I sighed. "He's perfect."

"Oh, come on, Rory," Jess sat beside me. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"He's as close to perfect as anyone can be," I insisted, not looking at him. "He is... well, I guess _was_... so sweet."

I could almost picture Jess rolling his eyes. "'Sweet' doesn't make him perfect."

"Look, I don't want to talk about this right now," I said, standing up. My voice broke at the end of my sentence. "I'm tired, my head hurts, my _feet_ hurt, and I just got dumped by my boyfriend of two years. I appreciate the sentiment, but right now, I just want to be alone."

Jess rose to his feet, looking at me. "Okay," he nodded. "See you later."

We turned to walk away at the same time, going opposite directions. I half-ran, half stumbled back home, figuring that my mom was still at the school. Sure enough, as I unlocked the door, it was pitch black inside. I flipped on a light in the entryway, then the kitchen, and then my bedroom.

I changed into some jeans, a black T-shirt, and a pink shrug, before going into the bathroom to do some damage control. I brushed the tangles and curls out of my hair, then wiped off the smeared mascara. When that was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked _awful_. My eyes were all red and swollen, there was a mysterious red splotch on my left cheek, and my lips were dry and cracked. Though my hair was mostly untangled, it still looked frizzy and untamable.

Suddenly, I lost the will to stay upright. I collapsed to the floor, laying my head next to the toilet, curling up into the fetal position. A little while later, I heard the sound of the door opening, and my mother's furious footsteps going up the stairs. She must have been pretty mad at me. After a few more seconds of silent wallowing, I sat up, ready to go back into my room and lock the door. Just then, my mom appeared in the doorway, having also changed into more casual attire. The disappointment and anger was clearly etched on her features, but a split second later, they dissipated into obvious pity.

I hated being pitied. But I was pretty damn pitiable right then. I sobbed.

Without a word, she sat on the floor beside me, and guided my head to her lap. "Just cry, babe," she whispered. "Go ahead and cry."

I didn't need telling twice.

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><p>AN: Yes? No? Hate? Love? Don't care? Tell me!


	2. Hatching a Plan

A/N: Once again, **bolded dialogue** belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino, as does the scene in which it occurs (with a few tweaks here and there). Enjoy!

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><p>The next morning, I woke up with a headache of monumental proportions. But my head wasn't the only thing that felt weird. My back was twisted in an odd position, and my legs were jammed against something hard, and growing stiff. I opened my eyes to find myself on the floor of the bathroom. Oh, goody.<p>

"Mom?"

Her head appeared moments later. She grinned. "Good morning, sunshine!"

I scowled. "Ha, ha."

"Would the Contessa like some waffles to battle the headache?"

Despite myself, I smiled. "Yes, I would."

"Comin' right up." She turned around and disappeared into the kitchen. I sighed, stretched for several seconds, rubbed a knot that had formed in my neck, then stood and followed her. As I entered the kitchen, she put two Eggo waffles in the toaster, then pushed them down. "Waffles will be ready in a minute," she announced.

"Thanks," I said, collapsing into a nearby chair.

Mom sat next to me, wearing her patented "I know something's wrong, and I'm being really nice to you, so I expect the truth" look. After a moment, she said, "Wanna talk?"

"Not really."

"I think it might do you some good."

"I don't want to."

She exhaled slowly. "Honey, I know it hurts. Breakups are tough, but you just gotta bounce back and—"

"How did you even know?" I asked.

"Rory," she gave me a look. "_Where_ do we live? And _who_ lives in this town?"

"Good point."

"Patty told me what happened when I got back to the dance floor." She sighed. "I swear, she and Andrew had to hold me back from finding Dean and garroting him."

I frowned. "Is that why you were so mad when you came home? I thought you were mad at me."

Mom shook her head, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Oh, angel, I could never be mad at you. Not for this. I know how hard being dumped is. You feel like it's the end of the world. But you just gotta move on, and keep living your life."

I was listening, really. I heard, and understood, everything that my mom was telling me. I just didn't agree with it. Honestly, I didn't _want_ to move on. I didn't want to keep living my life. I wanted _Dean_.

And suddenly, I knew how to get him back.

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><p>"Order's up!"<p>

Luke's Diner was as busy as ever when I walked in. I glanced around, looking for a specific person, and eventually found him. Jess weaved his way through the throng of customers, setting the order he'd just picked up in front of an elderly woman. He didn't say much, just a quick, "Enjoy," before rushing back behind the counter and grabbing one of the coffee pots for a round of refills.

_Maybe I should wait_, I thought, but brushed the thought aside and forged ahead, taking a seat at the counter. Somewhat self-consciously, I ran a hand through my hair to remove any tangles, and smoothed the vest of my Chilton uniform. I had just gotten back from school, and had about twenty minutes before Mom got home. I just hoped it would be enough time to persuade Jess to aid me in my plan.

Speaking of Jess, he was in front of me a second later. "Hey," he grinned. "Coffee?"

"Please," I nodded. He produced a mug and filled it nearly to the brim. (He wasn't supposed to, as Luke had a rule about only filling mugs and cups three-quarters of the way, but Jess still filled it completely for me when Luke wasn't looking.) I very carefully lifted the mug, taking several sips, until the level of the beverage was more reasonable, and I set it down. "Thanks."

"No problem," he shrugged, then went to fill some more mugs.

It was another ten minutes before the rush died down enough for Jess to come and actually talk to me.

"So..." he began, obviously wary, "you okay?"

I shrugged. "I'm alive."

He gave a small, sympathetic smile. "I guess that's better than nothing, right?"

"I guess."

"Anything I can do to help?"

_Bingo_. "Actually, yes."

His eyes widened in surprise, but he said, "Okay, what?"

I cast a furtive glance around the somewhat still-crowded diner, before whispering to him, "Can we talk upstairs?"

"Uh... sure. Luke, I'm going upstairs for a sec!" he added toward the kitchen.

"Hurry back!" was his uncle's response.

We clamored up the stairs into his and Luke's apartment, and Jess shut the door behind him. "All right, we're upstairs," he said. "So what's going on?"

I took a deep breath. "I want to get Dean back."

His reaction was immediate, and predictable. A stunned, slightly disgusted frown marred his features, and he took a step back. "_What?_ Rory—"

"Just listen for a sec," I interrupted him. "I know you don't like Dean, and you like him even less now after what he did. I'm mad, too, but I still love him, and I still want him back. And the only way to get him back is to show him what he's missing, and in order to do that, I'm going to need your help."

"My help?" he asked cautiously.

"Jess," I began, standing taller, "will you be my boyfriend?" He froze, and didn't speak for a long time. I was starting to lose confidence. "Um... Jess?"

He snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing. "Let me guess," he drawled. "Your plan is to _pretend_ to date me, which will make Dean jealous, and thereby eventually cause him to come crawling back to you?"

I gulped. "I wouldn't use quite those same words, but basically, yeah. Will you do it?"

Jess sighed, rubbing his hand back and forth on the back of his head. He looked at me for a long time, before sighing again. "Fine, I'll do it," he groaned. "You are gonna owe me _so_ big for this!"

"Thank you so much, Jess!" I smiled, but then my expression faltered as I realized I had no idea how to proceed. "So... what now?"

He paused, seeming to think about that. "Well... if we're gonna make this believable, we'll have to do some of the standard relationship things. That means holding hands, taking walks, cuddling," he gave a barely perceptible shudder at that, "and... kissing."

I felt my cheeks warm. "You really think we'll have to go that far?"

"I doubt anyone would believe us for a second if we didn't," he pointed out.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"So..." he took a deep breath, "in order to perfect this, I think we ought to practice."

"Makes sense," I agreed. "How do we practice?"

"Um... we kiss," he stated matter-of-factly.

_Oh, God, I'm an idiot_. "Right," I blushed. "Sorry, I just... I've only ever kissed Dean, and most of the time, he was the one starting it, and besides that, you're my best friend, so it's kind of weird for me, and I don't really know what to do." _Great, now I'm rambling__._

"Well..." he paused for a second, then his eyes took on a determined look, and they met mine. "**First of all**," he began authoritatively, "**we should try and get within, say, a foot of each other**."

I realized then that we probably had _several_ feet between us. "**Okay**," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. He started moving toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. I took a few steps in his direction as well, stopping just when we hit the usual "personal bubble" range. "**I think that's about a foot**," I said unnecessarily.

"**Huh**," he smirked. "**That school of yours is really paying off**."

Part of me wanted to laugh; typical Jess. But the situation was far too tense and unusual for me to find humor in it. "**So**," I said distractedly (had his eyes _always_ looked like melted chocolate?), "**now what**?"

"**Now we should**..." he trailed off, gesturing between us with his hand.

I nodded. "**Well, I think we either need to get a little closer, or we need to warm up**."

It was his turn to nod. "**Okay**," he said, glancing away for the briefest of moments, before they returned to mine. We inched closer, and my skin felt like it was being poked with needles, but not in an altogether unpleasant way. It didn't hurt, I just felt on edge, extremely alert, and slightly fidgety. I fought to stay still though, as Jess continued to close the distance between us, his chocolate eyes smoldering.

He glanced down again, then I felt something warm touching my hands. I realized a moment later that they were _his_ hands. My heart was running a marathon by this point, and I was starting to feel dizzy. His eyes found mine again, and as he toyed with my hands, he got closer... and closer...

And then the door opened.

Luke stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open. There was no way he hadn't seen how close we'd been; the thought made my already pink cheeks turn a bright shade of red. "I... came for my supply ledger," he said lamely.

I nodded, then turned to Jess. "See you."

"Bye," he waved, obviously just as tense as I was. I practically ran from the diner, only stopping long enough to get my backpack and coat. I hoped Mom wasn't home yet. I didn't want to have to explain to her what I was doing. Not yet, anyway.

Though I didn't see the car in the driveway, I still ran into my room, hoping to calm the fiery blush that still burned my cheeks. I hurriedly changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and had just finished pulling my hair into a ponytail when I heard the door open, then close, and my mother called out my name.

"In my room!" I yelled back, glancing at the mirror. My face was still a little pink, but not as bad as it had been before. The way it looked now, it could have just been the lingering bite from the cold outside.

Mom appeared in the doorway a second later, and smirked. "Having fun, sweet pea?"

I rolled my eyes, facing her again. "How was work?"

"Customers came and went, Sookie sprained her thumb, and Michel insulted people left and right."

"So, normal day, huh?"

"Pretty much. You?"

My stomach did a somersault, and for a split second, I stood undecided. Should I tell her the truth, that I was fake-dating Jess to get Dean back? Or should I just say that we were dating, and leave off the "fake" part altogether? I eventually came to the conclusion that telling her the truth was for the best.

"Actually..."

Mom's eyes narrowed, and she stepped into my room, sitting on my bed. "Actually?"

I sat down beside her, contemplating how to explain it. "So... you know I broke up with Dean."

She looked like she wanted to make a snarky comment, but she held back. "Yes."

"Well... I've decided I want to get him back." Her facial expression was similar to what Jess's had been, but I stopped her before she could protest. "Hold on! Let me explain! Yes, I'm angry that he hurt me, but that doesn't mean I love him any less, and I still want to be with him. Now, just waltzing up and asking him to take me back isn't going to work, so I've come up with a plan, and I need for you to keep an open mind about this." She was quiet, then gave a cautious nod. I took a breath. "I asked Jess to pretend to be my boyfriend."

For several seconds, she stared blankly at me, then she said, "You _what?_"

"Temporarily!" I insisted. "It's just until Dean realizes that he misses me, and that he still loves me just as much as I love him. Because I'm sure he does, Mom. And then, he'll ask me to be his girlfriend again, and everything will be perfect!"

"Oh, honey, I don't know," Mom shook her head. "Games and tricks of the heart just never end well. I'd hate to see you get even more hurt than you already are."

"It'll be fine, Mom," I smiled. "This is going to work. I know it."

She sighed. "Well... it seems your mind has been made up, so I guess... go for it."

I hugged her tightly. "Please don't say anything," I whispered.

"Not my job," she patted my back.

"I have to go find Jess. Luke caught us almost kissing."

"Caught you doing _what?_"

I shrugged one shoulder. "We were just trying to practice, you know, just in case we have to do it in public, to make the relationship believable." _No need to mention that that one almost-kiss made me blush and made my heart beat faster than any of the countless kisses I've shared with Dean... That's probably just because it was so weird_.

_Right?_

Mom sighed again. "Okay, then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"I will," I assured her, before kissing her on the cheek, and skipping out the door.

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><p>AN: Awkward ending, but it was getting long. I absolutely LOVED writing that near-kiss scene! Oh my gosh, _so _much fun! :D Please leave a review!


	3. Practice Makes Perfect

A/N: I own nothing. Here's Chapter 3. :)

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><p>The autumn sun was just beginning to set as I approached Luke's for the second time that day. Everything seemed to give off an orangey-gold glow, and what little warmth the sun had offered was slowly ebbing away. I pulled my hastily-donned coat closer to me, quickening my step, anxious to reach the fully heated diner.<p>

I was grateful that Luke seemed to be missing, with only Caesar standing behind the counter. The place was dead, just an hour before the dinner rush, and I wondered if I'd come at the wrong time. I was about to turn around and leave, when the very person I'd come to see appeared from behind the checkered curtain hiding the stairs.

"Hey," I said.

Jess started, and I thought I saw him blush a little when he saw me. "Hey."

I glanced at Caesar, who was eyeing us with poorly concealed interest, then looked back at Jess. "Take a walk with me?"

"Sure," he nodded, then turned to his coworker. "I'll be back."

"Take your time," he smirked.

We strolled in silence for a long time, until we eventually ended up at the bridge. I stopped, and sat, dangling my legs over the edge, just as I had done last night, but this time I wasn't crying. Jess followed suit, leaving a few feet of distance between us. I didn't even want to analyze the rush of disappointment I felt at that.

"So," I mumbled.

"So."

"That was..."

"Interesting," he finished.

"Luke—"

"I talked to him," he cut in. "As far as he knows, I was trying to comfort you after the breakup, then we kissed, and decided to get together."

"Sounds good," I nodded.

"He gave me a lecture," he chuckled. "About not corrupting you or whatever."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Luke would."

He grinned at me, and I felt suddenly nervous. Where was this coming from? I'd never been uncomfortable around Jess before. I didn't know how to act, what to say, how to initiate a conversation. So I said the first thing that came to mind.

"So... we never did practice."

He swallowed. "No, we didn't."

"Should we try again?"

"Uh... if you want. I think, though, that Luke barging in on us will be proof enough for a while."

"Oh," I sighed, trying not to feel rejected. "Okay, then."

Jess looked at me. "Although... maybe we should. Just to be safe. I mean, you never know when we'll have to do it in front of someone, so it's probably best to just... get the feel of it..."

His brow furrowed as he seemed to realize he wasn't making any sense. I sure didn't understand it, but I wasn't an expert in this situation. And he was probably right. We might get caught in a situation where we had no choice but to kiss, and if it was the first time, it might be a little too obvious. It definitely would be to Dean.

And besides that... a tiny, curious, and slightly traitorous part of me just wanted to kiss him... just to see what it was like.

So I scooted closer. "Might as well," I shrugged, my casual demeanor masking the inner turmoil I was experiencing. He gave a little, inscrutable grin, and copied my movements. We repeated this, stopping as our thighs touched—which, even in the ever-increasing cold, caused my flesh to burn—and our eyes locked again.

"Hi," he smirked.

I smiled in return. "Hi," I breathed, and slowly, our faces came closer. His eyes really were beautiful. I had a soft spot for brown eyes. He blinked lazily as the distance in between us continued to decrease, drawing my attention to his thick, dark lashes. I grew more and more hypnotized by some feature on his face that I hadn't noticed before—the eyes, the lashes, a little scar just above his left eyebrow, another at the corner of his lips—until, after what seemed an eternity, our lips met.

My eyes fluttered closed, and I leaned closer. His arm snaked around my waist, and I put a hand against his chest, delighted and confused to feel his heart beating just as wildly as my own beneath it. Kissing Jess was an entirely different experience than kissing Dean. Dean was cautious, careful, and almost always closed-mouthed. Jess didn't seem to be afraid to let a little passion leak in. And boy, did he! Somewhere in the back of my mind, the thought occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever _really_ been kissed.

The combination of the kiss, his scent, and the crisp, autumn air made me dizzy. I slowly pulled away, my breathing ragged. Jess appeared to be likewise affected by the kiss, and for a while, we just sat there, our panted breaths mingling.

"Whoa," he finally muttered.

"Uh-huh," I said intelligently.

"I think we've got the kissing part down."

"Mmm," I nodded. _Jesus, Gilmore, what happened to being _smart?

He exhaled sharply, then glanced over his shoulder. "I should probably get back."

"Okay."

"So... I guess I'll see you around?"

I gulped. "You sure will."

He laughed quietly. "See you," he said again, lightly slugging me in the shoulder. I didn't respond, choosing to remain seated until he was out of sight. I walked slowly back to the house, contemplating the events of the last two days. I had gone from having a boyfriend, to _not_ having a boyfriend, to having a _fake_ boyfriend, the last being solely for the purpose of getting the aforementioned _real_ boyfriend back. And I'd just had possibly the single most incredible kiss of my entire life. With my _fake_ boyfriend.

At that moment, I was sure I could give Lane, with all her complications and decoys, a run for her money.

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><p>When I got home, Mom was sitting on the couch, holding a magazine open. Judging by the way her legs twitched anxiously, though, she hadn't actually been reading it. She just wanted to appear casual, which meant a serious discussion was coming.<p>

"Hey," she smiled, tossing the magazine aside too quickly. She turned around to face me. "So, you talked to Jess?"

"Um, yeah," I nodded. "We just kind of... finalized some plans."

"So... you didn't...?"

Her question was obvious: she wanted to know if there'd been more than just talking going on between us. And though the answer was _yes_, I knew that telling mom that would be a _huge_ mistake, so I shook my head. "No, we didn't think we needed to. I mean, we weren't in public, and Luke already kind of walked in on us, so..."

"Okay, then," she said, her voice strained.

"But Mom, you know it'll probably happen eventually."

She sighed. "Well, warn me beforehand if you can, please?"

"I'll try," I agreed, then changed the subject. "So, Chinese?"

Mom seemed both reluctant and grateful for the switch. "I'll call Al's."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry it's so short. :/ The next one will be a lot longer, I promise! Anyways, kiss scene? SO MUCH FUN! I'm loving this story so much! The question is... are _you_? Review, please!


	4. Happy Thanksgiving

A/N: I own nothing. Just read. ;)

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><p>It took only a few hours for news of mine and Jess's "relationship" to spread. Most likely Miss Patty's doing. I got some mumbled congratulations from a few people, and words of unhelpful advice from others. Lane was the only one who seemed truly supportive, claiming that she "saw it coming." Jess and I shared a look when she told us this, silently agreeing that it would be best not to question it.<p>

Before I knew it, Thanksgiving was upon us. Mom and I went about the town, getting gifts and flowers for the people we'd be visiting. Our first stop was Lane's, then we'd hit Sookie's house, then Grandma and Grandpa, and then the grand finale at Luke's.

It wasn't until we were both standing outside Doose's that either of us remembered who worked there.

"Dean," I mumbled. "I forgot about that."

Mom smiled sympathetically. "I'll go. You get the flowers."

I nodded gratefully. "Meet you in five?"

"Got it." She gave my arm a little squeeze before disappearing inside. I ambled over to the outdoor flower display, looking for something generic and inexpensive, but still pretty. I had just decided on a few bouquets of orange and red chrysanthemums, when I felt an arm around my waist.

"Hey," a familiar voice murmured in my ear, and I tried to ignore the little shiver of pleasure. I turned around to face Jess. "You coming by later?"

"Of course," I grinned. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Good," he nodded, "because... I had kind of an idea."

My eyebrows flew up. "Oh?"

He bit his lip. "Ol' Deano's working today, right?" I nodded. "So, he'll probably get off around seven, and if we time it just right, you and your mom can leave around then, too. He sees us together, he gets jealous, we're one step closer to fulfilling our plan."

I beamed. "Jess, that's brilliant!" I cried, leaping forward to hug him. He laughed into my hair, hugging my back. After a few seconds, I moved away from him. "Okay, I'll let my mom know. We'll be there... five-ish?"

"Perfect," he smirked, then glanced over my shoulder. "Don't look now, but your neighbor's over there watching us."

"Babette?" I asked, and then I heard her boisterous, gravelly voice. I couldn't make out what she was saying, so I assumed it wasn't meant for me.

He bit his lip. "I'm gonna kiss you," he warned.

I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for the impact. His right hand found my waist, while his left cradled my face. The kiss was tender and quick, but still had enough energy and passion to leave me breathless. As he pulled away, he gave me a soft smile. "See you later," he mumbled, and then he was off. I watched him walk away, only somewhat aware that I must look like some goony, love-struck schoolgirl.

Then again... that was what I was supposed to be.

"Hey, babe," Mom appeared a second later, carrying a plastic bag. She grinned as she showed me her spoils. "Look at this! Chocolate turkeys! Aren't they great?"

I laughed, sharing her excitement for a moment, and then we made our way across the street, toward the Kims' house.

* * *

><p>"You do realize that Mom's going to be vibing us for the rest of the year now, right?"<p>

Mom and I were walking through the square, having just gotten back to town after Grandma and Grandpa's dinner. We'd left early so that we could get to Luke's at five, which had, of course, resulted in a rather nasty, unspoken, passive aggressive argument. Grandma was a master at those.

I sighed. "You always complain that Grandma's vibing you. Why should this time be any different?"

"Because this time, it's not just me. It's you, too," she pointed out. "What was with your lame-o excuse? 'Oh, sorry Grandma, I have some paper stuff to finish!' Hello! You've got three more days of no school! Of course she'd see right through that!"

"Well, yours wasn't much better! 'I think I'm getting a nose flu?' There's no such thing as a nose flu!"

Mom exhaled. "Okay, this is getting ugly. Let's just get to Luke's and enjoy our last Thanksgiving dinner for the night."

"Agreed," I nodded.

We walked into the diner, and were soon greeted by Luke and Jess. Jess kissed my lips quickly, and I thought I saw Mom blanch a little. I knew she still hadn't adjusted to the idea of Jess and me dating, even if it wasn't for real. I'd kind of hoped she'd be over it by now. I mean, it had been two full weeks, and we didn't even know for sure how much longer it would go on. So she should get used to it. At least for now.

_Wait, why am I stressing this?_

Dinner was quiet and uneventful... if by "quiet and uneventful" you mean that Luke and Taylor got into a fistfight, Babette got drunk off her own whiskey and started hitting on Andrew, calling him "Morey," while the _real_ Morey tried to get her home, and Patty put on a show on the top of Luke's counter while he and Taylor were still busy fighting.

Other than that, quiet and uneventful.

Luckily, though, it all started winding down by a little before seven, giving me and Jess plenty of time to follow through with our scheme. Luke handed Jess some black trash bags, telling him to put them in Taylor's bins (because that would make Taylor mad). Mom and Luke started talking about something, and I turned to watch Jess. In the corner of my eye, I spotted Dean just locking up the store. There it was, my window of opportunity. I raced out the door, catching Jess before he got very far.

"What—" he began, but I cut him off.

It was our third kiss—fourth, if you count that little peck he gave me in the diner—but somehow, it felt just like the first. I heard a strange, muffled crash, and deduced that he must have dropped the trash bag he'd been carrying, because a moment later, his arms were at my waist, pulling me closer.

As I pulled back, I smiled. "**Hi**."

"**Hi**," he grinned, that eyebrow of his quirking upward.

I didn't know what else to say—which is a remarkable feat for me—so I just grinned and said, "**Later**!" before sprinting back to Mom. She looked even paler than before, her eyes narrowed.

"What was that all about?" she asked warily.

"Dean was there," I whispered.

"Oh," was her only response, and we started the walk back home.

**Jess POV**

I couldn't help but laugh a little as Rory ran back over to her Mom. She really was weird. Of course, I knew that already, having been friends with her for more than a year now, but even so, she still found ways to surprise me.

First, with her ridiculous plan. I couldn't believe she'd even suggested it, let alone that she would be so willing to actually go through with it. Part of me had wanted to say no, that she should just get over that dick and find someone else (I had my own ideas about who that "someone else" should be, but I wasn't about to tell _her_ that). Then again, I'd never really been good at saying no to Rory, had I?

Not since the first time she asked me to read _The Fountainhead_. I _really_ hate that book.

Shaking these dangerous thoughts out of my head, I bent down, stuffing the trash that had fallen out of the bag when I dropped it back _into_ the bag. As I walked toward Doose's, though, I saw a tall, familiar figure standing in my way. Dean the Douche. Joy.

"How's it going, _Jess?_" he spat my name out with obvious distaste.

"Just fine," I muttered. "And you?"

"Cut the crap," he growled. "What the hell are you doing kissing Rory?"

I leveled my gaze with his—hard to do when he was a head taller than me. "She's my girlfriend," I said. "That's what you do with your girlfriend. You kiss. And once in a while, you treat her like a human being, rather than an object of possession. But hey, I guess that's news to you."

"Go ahead and keep laughing," he snarled. "But just you wait. She'll get bored, she'll find someone else, and then you won't be laughing so much, will you?"

"Oh, geez," I rolled my eyes. I tried to start walking, but he moved in front of me. I sighed. "**Don't do that**."

"**How does it feel**?" he asked, ignoring me. Man, I hated that guy _so much_. It was mostly this fact that caused me to say what I said next:

"**Feels like I'm with Rory, and you're not**."

He scowled. "Well, we'll see how long that lasts, won't we?" He turned and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "**Happy Thanksgiving**,** Jess**."

_Happy Thanksgiving to you too, asshole_.

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><p>AN: In case you can't tell, I'm not a fan of Dean. In fact, the nickname "Dean the Douche" is something I came up with in Season 3, right after the breakup. He sucks, and I was beyond thrilled when he stopped appearing in the series altogether. But anyways, what do you think? Please let me know in a review!


	5. Surprises, Part 1

A/N: Here's another chapter for ya! This one has a lot of stuff from Season 2, but it's still supposed to take place in her senior year. It's only as confusing as you make it! Loves!

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><p>More weeks passed, and still, nothing happened with Dean. By mid-December, I was beginning to wonder if maybe I'd assumed incorrectly. Maybe Dean really <em>didn't<em> want to get back together. Maybe he was happier without me. Jess, however, maintained that we were making good progress.

"He's totally jealous," he assured me as he helped me pick out a Christmas present for Luke. We were at Hartford's biggest mall, in one of those miscellaneous stores with a weird name that I would always forget by the time I left it. I wanted to get Luke something different than the decorative dish towels Mom and I usually ended up giving him; he rarely used them, and we could always tell that he was just pretending to like them for our benefit. This year, though, I wanted to find something he'd _really_ like, hence the reason I'd brought Jess along.

"I told you everything he said on Thanksgiving," he continued, still talking about Dean. "No guy goes to that much effort to psych another guy out unless it involves sports, money, or a girl."

"I didn't realize you knew so much about sports," I teased him with a wry look.

He glared playfully. "No, but I know more about guys than you do."

"Fair enough. What about this?" I held up a small collection of baseball cards.

Jess examined them for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope. He has most of those already. You're getting warmer, though."

I sighed. "Luke has got to be _the_ hardest person in the world to shop for!"

"You'll find something."

"Christmas is in less than two weeks!"

"You'll find something," he repeated.

"But—"

"Hey," he whispered, his voice suddenly taking on a tone of espionage. I looked at him, and noted that his eyes were focused on something behind me.

As discreetly as I could, I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Dean standing right outside the store with his little sister. He was watching us intently, a look of blatant resentment on his face.

I moved to the other side of Jess, so Dean would be able to see my face, then looked up. "Pretend you're saying something funny," I whisper.

"Um... Paris wearing a bikini?"

I made a face at his disturbing reference to my school "friend," if you could call her that. "Gross!" I exclaimed, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Thanks for the mental image! Where did that come from?"

"It was the first thing that popped into my head that I thought would be funny! And weird... and extremely awkward." Now _he_ grimaced. "God, you're right, that _is_ a terrible image! Make it go away!"

I snickered a little at his obvious discomfort. "It's your own fault."

He scowled playfully. "_My _fault?"

"Yep," I replied with a teasing smile. "You're the one who brought it up."

"_You're_ the one who said to say something funny."

"Well, how was I supposed to know you had such a twisted sense of humor?"

"You've known me for over a year now, you should know!"

I smirked. "Apparently, there are some things about you that I _don't_ know. How long have you secretly wanted to see Paris in a bikini?"

"Oh, geez!"

"Was it that night we ate dinner at my house?" I bounced in obviously exaggerated excitement. "I _knew_ there was something going on between you two! How _cute!_"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you've had your fun."

"All right, I'm done," I nodded, but not before another snigger of amusement.

"Oh, here," he said, tossing something my way. I caught it, and was surprised to see the name of one of my favorite bands emblazoned across the front.

"Luke's a Pixies fan?"

"It's for you," Jess stated, his back facing me.

I stared at him. "What?"

He turned around, looking anywhere but at me as he shrugged. "It's the only Pixies album you don't have already." He gave a quick smile. "So, Merry early Christmas."

I couldn't help it; I squealed with delight and threw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his. He grunted in surprise at the impact, but caught me and held our balance, kissing me back with astonishing fervor. And through all this, I completely forgot that Dean was watching not far away... that our relationship was fake... that I wasn't supposed to _want_ to kiss him.

Several seconds later, I parted from him, choosing to smile down at the CD in my hands. "You're something else, Jess Mariano," I said happily.

He laughed. "I've been called worse."

Was it just me, or did his voice sound a little shaky? I shook my head, brushing that thought aside. It was probably just because he was laughing. That's all.

"You still have to give me an actual Christmas gift, you know that."

"Just like _you_ have to get _me_ one," he shot back. "And it better not be towels."

"Got it. Fuzzy pink socks it is," I winked.

"Funny, funny girl," he deadpanned, very reminiscent of my mother. "We're here to look for a gift for Luke, right? So let's keep looking."

Jess walked down the aisle of miscellaneous items, not giving me a chance to come up with a response. I smiled at the CD again, before following him.

We never found anything for Luke.

* * *

><p>A few days later, all the "Town Favorites," as Mom liked to call them, which consisted of the most well-known people in Stars Hollow, gathered at the Independence Inn for the second annual Bracebridge Dinner. We had a huge meal, with actors and servers dressed up in Renaissance costumes, and then spent the night at the Inn. They often lost a little money because of this, but Mom said it was worth it, because she got to celebrate the holiday with all her friends, then watch them get slobbering drunk and make fools of themselves.<p>

Mom and I spent the morning and half the afternoon decorating and preparing. The guests were scheduled to arrive around four o'clock, so they'd have time to get settled into their rooms, change into nice clothes, then chat and mingle before dinner started. Once we were done, we stood in the foyer, ready to greet our guests.

The first ones there—Morey and Babette—came at four, right on the nose. Lane and her mom came soon after, and then, to my surprise, Dean and his sister, Clara.

"Dean?" I whispered furiously. "Mom, you invited _Dean_?"

"He asked me about it," she hissed back. "What was I supposed to do? Say no?"

I sighed, but didn't answer back. I let Mom greet them, since it was her fault they were here, and instead turned my attention to two guests who had just come in: Luke and Jess. I was about to head over there and talk to them, when Miss Patty came in and accosted them. She'd always seemed to have a soft spot for Luke, much to his obvious dismay, and the rest of the town took great pleasure in seeing him so uncomfortable around her. Unbeknownst to him, we often pushed them together, just to watch the show.

Jess glanced my way, wearing his usual smirk. He rolled his eyes, and I smiled back. His eyes flickered to my left, then back to mine, his smirk growing. I looked down first, then peered out of the corner of my eye to see Dean watching us—well, _me_—with a look of intense concentration. And anger. And confusion.

Oh, boy.

I looked back up at Jess, but he was facing the opposite direction now.

_Why are you disappointed, Rory? Stop it!_

"Everyone's here!" Mom's voice brought me back to reality. I glanced around, surprised to see the sudden throng of people. They must have all come in while I was locking eyes with Jess (wow, that sounded so weird). "You okay, sweets?"

"Fine," I nodded, giving a forced smile. "Just hungry."

She grinned. "Well then, let's go upstairs and change so we can eat!"

* * *

><p>The lobby was packed, and a pair of flautists where in the corner playing their wooden recorders. It sounded nice, and very Renaissance. Mom leaned over to me and whispered, "Time for a little surprise." Then she moved to stand on the raised portion of the floor, in front of the doorway, with Sookie following close behind.<p>

"**Hey, everybody, will you gather round?**" she asked loudly. Few people seemed to notice. "**Everyone, everyone!**" she tried again, with better results. The music ceased, and everybody faced her. **"First of all, I want to welcome you to the **_second_** annual, and probably never ever to be held again, because Sookie's on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Bracebridge Dinner!**"

"**I'm fine!**" Sookie insisted over the laughs, though her tone suggested otherwise. I smiled, shaking my head. Mom had said the same thing last year, at the _first_ annual Bracebridge Dinner, but by the time it was over, she and Sookie decided that, even though it was a lot of stress, they wanted to keep the tradition going.

Mom smiled, and went on. "**This is a very special night.** And so, in celebration of this special evening,** I've arranged a little surprise. Outside, as we speak, is a line of horse-drawn sleighs, and everyone gets a ride!**"

There was some applause, mixed with cries of both excitement and dismay (I had a feeling the latter was coming from Luke and Jess, and maybe Bootsy).

"**So**," Mom continued, **"line up, and keep it orderly. There's two per sleigh, and no cutting in front of each other. That goes for everyone... except me," she added with a smirk. "'Cause I'll be damned if I'm gonna miss a ride in a horse-drawn sleigh!**"

I rolled my eyes at my mother's antics, but still smiled. I turned to find Jess, but was stopped by someone _very_ tall.

Dean.

"Hey," he smiled. "Wow, your mom's going all out this year, huh?"

I carefully calculated my response, keeping my face impassive. "Yeah, I guess so. She loves doing this."

He smiled at me, then seemed to squirm. Oh no... is he going to...?

"So, did you want to—"

"Come on, Dean!" a high-pitched, girlish voice cut him off. I looked down to see Clara tugging on his arm. "We're gonna miss all the good horses!"

Dean paused, seeming conflicted. I smiled at him. "Have fun," I said with an air of finality. "See you at dinner."

Without waiting for a response, I hurried outside to find an empty sleigh. I noticed Luke getting in with my mom, and smirked to myself. That was bound to be an interesting conversation. I'd have to ask her for details, later. The next one pulled up, and I climbed in. The driver turned around. "**That it, miss?**"

I shrugged. "**I guess I'm alone**," I said, draping the blanket over my legs. He gave a nod, then urged the horse into a slow trot. Just as it started to move, someone leapt into the sleigh beside me. It came as no surprise to me that it was Jess, but the act in and of itself made me jump.

"Oh, my God!" I cried. "**What are you _doing?_**"

"**Well**," he smirked, "**I heard it was two to a sleigh, no more, no less.**" He winked at me. "**You were breaking the rules.**"

"**You could have hurt yourself**," I scolded him.

"**I live on the edge**," he said dryly, then he looked at me, still smirking. "**I could jump out if you want.**"

"Not funny," I glared, folding my arms and staring ahead.

He sighed. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"I wasn't scared," I insisted. "I was just... surprised, that's all."

"Well, then I'm sorry I _surprised_ you."

I glanced at him, trying to keep glaring, but the faux-innocent look on his face was too much to resist. I smiled at him, rolling my eyes. "It's okay."

Jess was quiet for a moment, then said, "So I saw you talking to Dean in there. What did he have to say?"

My cheeks warmed. "Um... not much. I think he was going to try and ride with me."

He grinned. "Well, that would have sped up the process a lot. Romantic sleigh ride, no adult supervision... Why didn't he?"

"His sister claimed him," I stated indifferently. The weird thing was, I actually _felt_ indifferent. The fact that I hadn't had any time alone with Dean—time that, quite possibly, may have resulted in getting back with him, which was my goal from the very beginning—didn't bother me at all. I didn't _care_. Why didn't I care?

"So," Jess spoke again, "**what **did** you and Dean talk ****about**?"

I frowned. "**What**?"

"Back when you were together, I mean. What did you guys have in common? For instance," he had that smirk back again, "does he get all your crazy, obscure pop culture references? Does he like the same books? Movies? Music?"

"Well, I shared a lot of stuff with him. Most of the movies and music he likes now are things I've introduced him to."

His smirk widened. "**So you got a teacher-student thing going?**"

"**Stop**," I glared at him.

"**No, really, I'm curious. What **did** you guys talk about?**"

I shrugged. "**Everything.**"

"**Like...?**" he prodded, gesturing with his hands.

For once, I didn't really have an answer. I evaded the question by shifting in my seat and looking forward. "**Just... everything. Tons of stuff. Whatever.**"

He nodded. "**It's just in the brief, non-pugilistic time I've spent with him in class, he just... doesn't seem like your kind of guy.**"

Where did _that_ come from? I gave a short, humorless laugh. "**Well, he _is_ my kind of guy!**" I said. "**He's _exactly_ my kind of guy!**" For a split second, I wondered whether I was trying to convince him, or myself. But I pushed that thought quickly aside. Of course I didn't need to convince myself! I loved Dean! I would _always_ love Dean!

_Always?_ a traitorous voice in the back of my head asked. I ignored it.

Jess nodded affably. "**Okay**," he said. "**Guess I don't know him that well.**"

I didn't have a response for that. The conversation shifted toward books, specifically one that Jess had just finished reading. It was pleasant, but I could still feel a sense of discomfort from the previous topic. Why was Jess so curious? Why did he want to know the nature of mine and Dean's relationship? And why the hell was I suddenly questioning myself? It didn't make sense...

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><p>AN: Oh, Rory. You are _so_ clueless. Well, you'll figure it out soon enough. ;) Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Please leave a review!


	6. Surprises, Part 2

A/N: Two chapters in one day! Love it! :D This one's really long, but there was really no way to cut it down. Enjoy!

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><p>The dinner was a huge success, as always. Patty and Babette ended up singing a drunken duet—something from <em>Chicago<em>, I think—while Bootsy and Jackson did an impressive rendition of "Hotel California." When things started getting particularly crazy, I noticed Dean leading Clara upstairs to their room. Eventually, we were able to get everybody _mostly_ sober, and herded them upstairs to their respective rooms.

Finally, when we were sure everyone else had gone to bed, Mom and I climbed the stairs to our own room. Once inside, Mom heaved a sigh. "That was quite the evening, wasn't it?"

I grinned. "Definitely the most festive Christmas celebration I've ever attended."

"Well, at least we've got that," she smiled back. "Do you want to shower first?"

"Yes, because I don't take forever like _you_ do."

"That's because you have skin like a baby's ass and you don't need intensive skin therapy to make yourself look beautiful. You just look that way naturally."

I rolled my eyes, but said nothing, and grabbed the necessary items for a shower before heading into the bathroom. The warm water felt nice on my skin, and I let myself stand there for a minute, before I started the actual washing part. Of course, I still got done in only ten minutes, and was out of the bathroom and blow-drying my hair in no time.

While Mom was getting _her_ shower, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, then sat on my bed. I wasn't tired, but there wasn't much to do. It was midnight, so turning the TV on would probably wake the people next to us up, and I wasn't in the mood to read any of the books I brought. So, I pulled on some slippers, donned one of the complimentary bathrobes, and tiptoed quietly down the stairs to the lobby.

It was dark, with only a few precautionary lights on and the last embers of the fire glowing faintly, and completely empty. Or so I thought. Just as I sat down on one of the couches, I heard a voice behind me. "Oh, sorry."

I jumped up, whirling around to see Dean at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing a white T-shirt and flannel pants, his stocking-clad feet making no noise on the wood floor. No wonder I hadn't heard him coming. I shrugged one shoulder, forcing myself to relax. "You have just as much right as I do to come down here," I said.

"Then... can I sit?"

Not trusting my voice, I bit my lip and nodded once. He crossed the room and sat slowly beside me, staring ahead. His eyes looked troubled, and tired. After a few moments, he met my gaze, and smiled faintly. "This is nice."

I squirmed a little. "I guess."

Dean sighed. "Look, Rory... I'm sorry for breaking up with you the way I did, at the dance. You didn't deserve that, and I wish I hadn't done it."

"It's okay," I shrugged.

He took a breath. "It's not just that, though. I'm sorry I broke up with you at all."

My whole body froze. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying... I love you, Rory," he said finally. "And I miss you. And I know you're supposedly with _him_," he spat the word out with distaste, "but I think you and I both know that you're just marking time with him. He's a rebound, and that's it."

I didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't completely off-base, but he wasn't quite correct, either. Besides, he was offering me exactly what I'd wanted. Denying his assumption would ruin it.

"So... I guess what I'm asking is... would you give me another chance?"

In a voice I didn't recognize, I whispered, "Of course."

He smiled, and leaned over to kiss me gently on the lips. I leaned in, waiting for that spark, that fire, but before I could even get close to feeling it, he was pulling away, still wearing that smile. "We should probably go upstairs."

The reasonable thing for me to do would be to nod and smile, and follow him up the stairs, accepting a kiss good night outside my door. But what I heard myself saying was, "You go. I'd like to stay for a few minutes."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I could stay... if you want me to."

"No, that's okay," I forced a smile. "You go ahead. Clara will miss you if she wakes up. I'll see you in the morning."

He grinned. "All right. See you," he said, then kissed my cheek.

I didn't watch him as he went up to his room. I didn't move from my spot. I just kept staring, vacantly, into the empty space in front of me. It matched the way I felt.

Why wasn't I happy? I'd gotten what I wanted, hadn't I? I was with Dean again. The mission had been a success. Then why was my mind occupied with thoughts of a different boy, with molten-chocolate eyes and a wry smile?

* * *

><p>The next morning, I faked a headache, and Mom let me sleep in. I kind of felt bad, leaving her to say goodbye to her guests all alone, but there was no way I would be able to face Jess <em>and<em> Dean at the same time. That was just too much confusion and complication to handle at once.

Mom woke me up about an hour later, when everyone else was gone. We went back home, and found five messages on the machine: four from Dean, one from Jess. I received a somewhat reproachful look from my mom. "So I guess you're back with Dean, huh?"

I rubbed my right hand over my left arm uneasily. "Um... yeah."

"When did this happen?"

"Last night," I told her. "I ran into him in the lobby."

She frowned. "When were you in the lobby?"

"While you were in the shower."

"Oh." She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is that why you slept in?"

"What do you mean?" I hedged.

She gave me another look. "You didn't want to try and talk to Jess _and_ Dean, since that would be too complicated and hard to explain, so you just pretended to have a headache so that you could sleep in and not see either of them."

I sighed; I always seemed to underestimate her perceptiveness. "Yes, that's why. I don't know, I just... I didn't want to cause any unnecessary drama. And you know that's exactly what would have happened."

Mom shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But you know, you still have to tell Jess."

"I know," I snapped.

"And you should probably do it sometime today."

"I _know_."

"O-_kay_," she emphasized the last syllable, just like I had. "I'm just saying—"

"Tell you what, I'll do it right now," I interrupted her. "Dean's supposed to go to work at noon, and he wants to meet up before, so I'll go see him, then I'll stop by Luke's afterward to talk to Jess."

She exhaled. "Okay. Let me know how it all goes."

"I will," I promised, then quickly kissed her cheek before heading out the door. I first went to Dean's, and his mom answered the door.

"Hello, Rory," she smiled widely. "It's nice to see you again. We've missed you."

"Thanks," I said meekly. "Is Dean here?"

"He's upstairs," she nodded. "Come on in, it's cold out." She stepped back and let me in, then said, "I'll go and get him," before she half-jogged up the stairs. I stood in the entryway silently, feeling strangely awkward. A moment later, Dean appeared at the top of the stairs, and smiled as he took them two at a time to get to me.

"Hey," he greeted, kissing me. I tried to lean in again, to put a little passion into it, but just like last night, he pulled away too quickly. "How are you? Did you get my messages? I didn't see you at the Inn."

I smiled guiltily. "Yeah, I just had a little headache. Plus... I didn't want to cause a scene. I didn't think Jess would take too kindly to... well... _us_."

"I don't care," Dean scoffed. "Hell, I _want_ to piss him off."

"Dean—"

"He's a jerk, Rory," he insisted. "He's hardly ever at school, he gets in stupid fights all the time, and he's always trying to mess with me."

I sighed; we'd been over this before. "Dean, I know you don't like him, but he's still my friend, and—"

"No," he cut in, his voice deep with a surprising anger.

"What?"

He met my gaze firmly. "If we're going to be together, then I don't want you seeing him. At all." I felt my jaw drop. "I can't stand that guy, and I really don't think he's as good of a friend as you seem to think he is."

"Dean, that's crazy!" I half-shouted. "You can't expect me to just not be his friend anymore! That's... it's crazy!" I repeated.

"I'm serious, Rory," he said. "I don't want you talking to him anymore."

I stared at him for a long time, wavering. On the one hand, Jess really _was_ a good friend, and though I knew the things Dean had accused Jess of were true (sort of), I didn't hold them against him. He missed class once in a while, but his grades never suffered... much. He only got fights with people when they started in on him first. And the whole "messing with Dean" thin, I'm pretty sure that was all in his head.

On the other hand, I'd been working toward being with Dean this whole time, and from the sound of things, he wasn't likely to stay with me if I was talking to Jess. Dean was like me; once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. But how could I just sever a friendship as close as the one I shared with Jess? How could he really ask that of me? He knew how much I valued my friendship. At the same time, I could see that arguing with him would be completely pointless, and would probably end badly.

So I made a decision then. I decided that Jess and I would still be friends, but we'd have to keep our friendship a secret. It could work; we could just say that the whole breakup had affected our friendship, and we just couldn't be around each other. And then we'd have to arrange to hang out in secret, outside of Stars Hollow. We'd have to leave at different times, and use different means of transportation. He did have a car, and I could take the bus. Mom wouldn't like that, but I couldn't just stop being friends with Jess. It was unacceptable. So we would keep it a secret.

"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll have to talk to him today, though," I added. "I still have to tell him we're back together."

The glee in Dean's eyes was unmistakable as he asked, "Want me to come with?"

"No!" I practically shouted, but then more calmly, said, "I should really do this on my own. I'll talk to you after. When's your lunch break?"

"Probably around three-thirty or so," he smiled. "Come by Doose's then?"

"Sure thing," I kissed him quickly.

* * *

><p>I stood across the street from Luke's, staring at the diner with trepidation. I'd been there for almost half an hour now, after walking with Dean to Doose's. <em>Just go in<em>, I kept telling myself, but I couldn't budge. Finally, after almost another ten minutes, I forced myself to move forward, and eventually entered the diner.

It was busier than I'd seen it in a long time. Jess and Caesar were both out in the restaurant, and Luke was frantically working in the kitchen. Jess's eyes smiled as he saw me (he rarely gave an actual smile), and he walked over, the smile growing as he got closer.

"Hey," he greeted me. "How's it going?"

"Can we talk?" I asked quietly. "In private?"

"Uh, I'm a little busy for the moment," he said apologetically. "It'll probably die down in about an hour or so. Coffee?"

I shook my head. "No, that's okay. I can just come back."

"Okay," he shrugged, then moved to kiss me. I took an almost imperceptible step back, and forced a smile.

"See you in an hour, then," I said, and didn't wait for him to respond before I rushed out of the diner. I went to Lane's, barely stopping long enough to open the door.

"Lane!" I shouted, and she appeared a moment later.

"Hey," she grinned, but the smile faded as she saw me. "What's wrong?"

"Room!" I shouted, and sprinted up her stairs.

She called something to her mother, then followed me up. She shut the door behind her, and turned to me, brow creased with concern. "What's going on?"

"I have to tell you something," I panted, not so much from over-exertion, but more from the enormity of what I was about to say. In as short and uninterrupted of a rendition as I could manage, I told her about the plan I'd had with Jess, and how Dean and I had gotten back together, and ended with Dean's request. By the end, she was staring silently at the floor.

"So... what do you think?" I asked her. She was quiet. "Lane, say something."

"Are you going to?"

"Going to what?"

She looked up at me. "Are you going to stop being friends with Jess?"

I hesitated; should I tell her what I'd decided? Or should I let her believe that I really didn't want to be friends with him anymore?

Apparently, I hesitated too long, and she jumped to the wrong conclusion. "I can't believe you!" she shrieked, abruptly shooting up from where she'd been sitting on her bed. "You're _seriously_ going to just throw away a great friendship like that, just because your stupid jerk of a boyfriend asked you to?"

"Hey—!"

"No!" she cut me off. "I know you love Dean, and I know he's important to you, but is he really worth losing one of the best friendships you've ever had?"

_Um... okay, we'll get to that comment later_. "Lane! I'm not going to just throw away anything! I'm going to talk to Jess, explain the situation, and then maybe he and I can just... be friends secretly."

Lane seemed to calm down at this. "Oh. Well... I guess that could work."

I sighed. "There's no way I could just end my friendship with Jess. But I don't want to screw things up with Dean again. It's all so fresh still, and the slightest mistake could set him off, and... I can't risk that. So I think that... a secret friendship is the only solution."

She nodded slowly. "I don't take back what I said, though. Dean is a jerk for asking you to do this. I can't believe he really expects that of you."

I gave another sigh. "I can't believe it, either, but if that's what it takes to make this right again, I'll have to at least _appear_ like I'm doing it. And maybe, eventually, he'll cool down, and things can go back to normal."

"Maybe," she said quietly, but I could tell she didn't really believe it.

I wasn't so sure _I_ believed it.

About an hour later, I went back to Luke's to find it practically dead. Jess looked up when the door opened, and his eyes tightened visibly. So he _had_ noticed my frantic getaway earlier. Not that I really expected he wouldn't; he was freakishly observant.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I replied. "You okay to talk now?"

"I guess," he muttered, grabbing his coat. "Luke, I'm going out," he added loudly.

"I'll alert the media," Luke replied sarcastically.

He followed me out, and neither of us spoke as we walked. A minute later, we came to a stop on the bridge. I swallowed, instantly wishing we hadn't come here. I stared at the spot where, just weeks before, he and I had sat, and ended up making out.

"So," his voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I jumped, facing him. "You said you wanted to talk."

I took a deep breath. "Um... well... Dean and I are back together."

He grinned slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Congrats. So... I guess that means we're done, right?"

"No," I blurted, but then regretted it. "I mean, yes. I mean..." I stopped, closing my eyes, then began again. "We're done fake-dating, but..."

"But?" he prompted when I faltered.

I met his eyes—oh, those liquid chocolate eyes—and took yet another breath. "Dean has... asked me... well, he said that... he doesn't want me talking to me anymore."

The effect was instantaneous; Jess stiffened, and the molten chocolate seemed to freeze over, becoming a flat, muddy brown. "Oh," he said bitterly. "I see."

"Jess—"

"Don't," he shook his head. "I get it. It was nice knowing you."

"Jess, please—"

"What?" he snapped, his eyes sparking with anger. "What do you want from me, Rory? You want me to just say, 'Oh, it's okay that you're dumping me on my ass for your douche bag of a boyfriend'? _Hell no!_" he shouted. "That is _not_ okay!"

"I'm—"

"You know what, just forget it!" he yelled, stepping back. "You got what you wanted, you don't need me anymore! Congratulations! But next time he dumps your sorry ass, don't come crawling back to me, expecting me to help you again!"

"Jess!"

He shook his head again, and stalked off. I was tempted to run after him, to explain the idea I'd had. But I had a feeling he wouldn't listen to me. He needed time to cool down. Maybe, in a few days, I'd approach him again. Maybe then, he'd be willing to listen, and everything would be... well, not the way it was, but at least _better_.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I nodded to myself, then headed home until Dean's lunch break.

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><p>AN: I hate Dean. He's an ass. That is all. Please leave a review!


	7. Fighting

A/N: Here's another one for ya!

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><p>I didn't see Jess for the rest of the break. When I asked Luke where he was, he told me he'd gone to New York to spend time with his mom. Which I knew was crap, as Jess basically hated his mother, but I decided not to press the issue. Wherever Jess was, he didn't want anyone to know about it. So I would remain ignorant... until he came back. Then I would force him to tell me the truth.<p>

Dean and I settled comfortably back into our relationship. Everything was just the way it had been before... except for the lack of Jess. And most of the time, I just made believe that I was going to see Jess later, or I pretended that he really _was_ with his mom.

But when I was by myself... it was a lot harder to pretend. Alone, I was bombarded with thoughts and memories of my time with him, specifically the time spent during our "relationship." Alone... secretly... I wished he was still here.

Eventually, Jess did come back, but I rarely saw him. I tried to pester Luke for info on his whereabouts, but he always said he was "out," or "studying." I tried to bribe him into letting me go upstairs to talk to Jess, and even used my Baby Face, which usually worked like a charm. Not on Luke, apparently. However, he did finally tell me that Jess was "going through something," and needed some space.

Fine. I could give him space. I would give him all the freakin' space he wanted, and then some!

And I did... until the beginning of April. Dean's friend Kyle was throwing a party at his house (his parents were out of town), and he'd asked Lane's recently formed band to play. Dean and I went early to help set up and support them.

"Thanks for coming," Lane said as the rest of the band (Zack, Brian, and Dave) continued to set up.

"No problem," I smiled. "I wouldn't miss it." She suddenly seemed anxious, and my smile faded. "Lane, what's wrong? Are you getting nervous?"

"No," she said quickly. "Well... maybe a little, but that's not why. Um..." She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back up at me. "I have to tell you something. I sort of... invited Jess."

My heart stopped. "Oh," I breathed. "Uh... i-is he coming?"

"I never got confirmation," she shrugged, "but he might."

"Oh," I said again. I glanced over my shoulder at Dean, who was talking to Kyle. He didn't seem to have heard. _Should I tell him?_

"Are you going to tell him?" Lane asked, guessing my thoughts.

I considered this for a minute, then shook my head. "No, I think it's better that he doesn't know for now. If Jess actually shows up, _then_ I'll worry about telling him."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Sorry to interrupt," Dave said, coming to stand by Lane, "but we should really do a quick sound check."

While the band finished preparing, I walked over to Dean, who had finished helping Kyle put away the hummels (I had no idea what a hummel was, but that's what he said he'd been doing). He smile, wrapping his arms around me.

"You okay?" he asked. "You look upset."

I hurriedly shook my head. "Not upset, just... you know... parties aren't really my thing. I mean, the only reason I'm even here is to offer the band moral support."

He laughed. "I know. And that's great, but I'm sure Lane and the guys wouldn't mind if we decided to leave early."

"They might not, but _I_ would," I said. "I'll stay. For the band."

But I wasn't sure anymore if that was the only reason.

Within about thirty minutes, the house was packed, everyone dancing as the band played in the living room. Lane's momentary nerves seemed to have vanished; they were fantastic, and the party-goers definitely seemed to appreciate them. Dean and I shared a proud smile, the only ones not dancing.

Well... not the only ones.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a dark-clad figure hovering in the doorway.

_Jess_.

He was watching the band with clearly-forced interest—I knew he liked the music, but I could tell by how stiff he seemed, and the glazed look on his face, that he had other things on his mind.

A moment later, Dean noticed that my attention was no longer on him, and followed my gaze, his body tensing as he saw Jess. I gulped; this was _not_ good.

He turned back to me, scowling. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"I, um..." I stammered, shaking my head.

"Did you know about this?" he asked, nearly shouting. Thankfully, the music was so loud that nobody really noticed.

"No," I insisted, feeling my insides squirm from the lie. "I-I didn't know."

Dean watched me for a moment, but then appeared to accept my answer, and glared at Jess again. I forced myself _not_ to look at him. My heart was racing, and I could feel my face burning. Not good _at all_.

Finally, the band finished its last song, and Lane came over to us.

"That was great!" I said enthusiastically.

"Not bad," Dean smiled.

"Yeah, top notch," a mildly sarcastic voice sounded, and we all turned to see Jess walking up, his eyes fixed on Lane. "You guys are pretty good for a garage band."

Lane forced a grin. "Thanks, Jess."

I tried to meet his eye, even said, "Hey, Jess," but he refused to even look at me.

"So, are you guys playing again later, or was that the only set you had planned?" he asked Lane.

"Well, we were just going to end there, but—"

"Great!" Dean said suddenly, then turned to me. "Rory, let's go."

I frowned at him. "What?"

"Let's go," he repeated. "It's still early. We could go see a movie."

"Dean—"

"Or we can just go hang at your place, or even my place," he cut across me.

"Hey, Edgar Bergen, maybe you should let Charlie McCarthy answer," Jess snapped.

I gave him my best "Not helping!" look, but he was too busy scowling at Dean to even notice. Dean ignored him, still trying to persuade me to leave.

"You're the one who said you don't like going to parties, so let's just go."

"I don't want to go yet," I said timidly.

"Rory, please!"

"I don't want to go!" I insisted.

"Why, because of _him?_"

I didn't even bother to deny it. I knew—and I knew _he_ knew—that that was _exactly_ why. "Dean, I haven't spoken to Jess in _months_, because of _your_ request! I hated it, and I didn't want to do it, but I did it anyway! The _least_ you could do is let me talk to him, just for tonight! Just to catch up!" He opened his mouth, probably to refuse, but I put a hand on his arm, using the Baby Face (it may not work on Luke, but I _knew_ it worked on Dean). "Please? Just this once."

I could see his resolve wavering, but he was fighting it, and the more he fought, the more angry he seemed to become. Finally, throwing one last vicious scowl at Jess, he stalked off toward the kitchen.

"I'm just gonna... talk to the band," Lane announced awkwardly, then left.

I looked at Jess, who was looking at everything but me. Suddenly angry, I marched forward and grabbed his arm, ignoring his protests—though he didn't really put up much of a fight—and dragged him upstairs, not stopping until we were inside the first room we came to, which looked like his parents' bedroom. Once inside, I turned to him, folding my arms.

Jess frowned. "What the hell is _that_ look for?"

"What are you doing here?" I countered. "I wasn't aware that you cared so much about Lane that you would go out of your way and take time out of your oh so busy schedule to see her band."

He rolled his eyes. "It's just a stupid gig at a lame party, and I wasn't even planning on coming."

"So why _did_ you?" I demanded.

"Because I felt like it."

"Oh, please. You never do anything without a reason, Jess."

"Whatever," he grumbled, moving toward the door.

"I'm not done yet!" I shouted.

"Geez, what the hell!" he yelled back. "What do you want, Rory? Why are you even talking to me? Your asshole boyfriend is probably having a conniption fit right now!"

I glared at him. "This isn't about him!"

"Of course it's about him! It's _always_ about him! Everything you've ever said or done has had some sort of direct or indirect connection with him! Our whole stupid fake relationship was just so that you could get him back! And funnily enough," he added, in a voice that clearly demonstrated just how _un_-funny he really thought it was, "he _also_ happens to be the reason you flushed our friendship down the toilet!"

"I didn't want that!"

"Oh, now comes the excuse!" he rolled his eyes again.

"When I went to see you that day, I wanted to tell you what Dean said, and then I was going to say that I wasn't going to go through with it!" I screamed at him. I felt a little glimmer of internal triumph at the genuinely surprised look on his face. "I was going to suggest that we stay friends, but... hide it from him. Just for a while, until he cooled off a little."

Jess was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Why would you risk that? If he found out, he probably would've dumped you again, like the dick that he is."

"Because I didn't want to lose you—your friendship," I amended quickly, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. If he noticed, he didn't say so. He took a long, deep breath, leaning against a dresser, staring into space. I took advantage of his silence, and spoke again. "You didn't really think I would just throw that away, did you?"

He didn't answer for a long time, looking very intently at a spot on the floor. After a while, he gave an exhausted sigh. "I don't know."

I frowned. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"It's not _nothing_," I said, moving to stand beside him. "Come on, Jess, tell me."

After another five or so seconds of silence, he looked up at me. "I thought we were friends. I thought we were just pretending to date because you wanted Dean back, for some godforsaken reason. I thought everything would go back to normal once you were back together. I thought... I thought that was what I wanted." He looked down again. "And suddenly, you _were_ back with him, and saying he didn't want you talking to me, and all that stuff... and I just couldn't..." Jess sighed again. "I was so _mad_. Mad at him for just being him, mad at you for wanting anything to do with him, and mad at me for being such a pathetic little wimp. And now, I just... **I don't know **_**what**_** I think anymore**."

His speech set my mind reeling. What did it all mean? Maybe I'd figure it out later, maybe not. Jess always was such a mystery. That was part of why I'd wanted to be his friend in the first place. I liked solving puzzles, discovering answers. But the more answers I uncovered, the more questions I seemed to end up asking. Jess was an enigma, and I'd long ago resigned myself to that fact.

But there was one thing he definitely was _not_. I took a breath, stood directly in front of him and said, "Jess, there's no way you could _ever_ be pathetic."

He laughed humorlessly. "You'd be surprised."

"Well, I'm always pleasantly surprised by you," I said somewhat teasingly, "but I still don't think you're pathetic."

Jess looked carefully at me. "Is that right?" he asked quietly.

I meant to answer; really, I did. But something about his eyes—that all-too familiar, hopelessly attractive melted chocolate color—distracted me, and before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me.

_God_...

It had the passion of every single one of our previous kisses combined. Every inch of my skin seemed to tingle, and a fire started to burn somewhere beneath my ribcage, the flames of hot desire scorching my veins. Without a second thought, I leaned into him, reaching for him, pulling him closer. He acquiesced eagerly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I was only dimly aware of him guiding me toward something, and barely registered that we'd reached the bed when he gently pushed me back. Gingerly, he adjusted his weight so that he wouldn't squash me, still kissing me with unbridled fervor. Man, he was good at this. I attempted to respond through the breathless haze he'd created in my mind, hoping my own passion would be appropriately conveyed. It must have been, for he continued to ravish me with his lips. Somehow, his arms found their way even more tightly around my waist, and I felt that desire burning even more intensely, a longing for something I'd never even considered before. I knew what it was, but didn't dare even form the thought in my mind.

Right now, however, thoughts were proving completely unnecessary, and I was ready to give myself completely over to my feelings...

Until, like the swish of an axe, like the plunge of a knife, one single thought—one word—one _name_—rang out in my mind, and I froze.

_Dean_.

"Oh, my God..." I mumbled, but Jess didn't seem to notice. "Oh, my God!" I said again, this time louder, and with some effort, extricated myself from his grasp. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but I didn't dare think about that. Oh, God...

"Rory, are you—"

"What the hell am I doing?" I whispered, my eyes stinging. I knew the tears were coming, and I was powerless to stop them, so I fled. I raced from the room as quickly as I could, tears already streaming down my face. Maybe if I was lucky, I could get out of here before I ran into—

"There you are!"

_Damn_.

Dean was on the middle landing of the stairs, looking up at me. His eyes flashed when he saw me crying. "Rory, what's wrong? What are you..." He trailed off and his eyes moved to something behind me. I didn't have to look to know that Jess had followed me. Dean's expression became murderous. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't—"

But before Jess could even get a word out, Dean had punched him in the face. Never one to back down when threatened, Jess lunged, tackling him to the floor. I yelled over the crowd, who had suddenly gathered to see the fight, but they didn't seem to hear me—or they didn't want to. I followed them, along with everyone else, until they got outside to the front yard. Just as things were getting especially violent, a couple of other guys from the party stepped in, pulling them apart.

"Knock it off, man!" the one who had Dean said.

"Keep your hands off my girlfriend!" he screamed.

"Yeah, that's good, pull the possession card!" Jess yelled back. "Guess that's the only way you can convince yourself she won't ditch you!"

"Guys, _stop!_" I attempted again.

Then the sirens came.

"COPS!" someone shouted, and the party dissolved into pandemonium. Dean went back inside, scowling. I let him go, instead walking toward Jess.

"No," he said, now glaring at _me_.

I stopped, my throat tightening. "Jess..." I managed to say, but then he turned and stormed off, shaking his head. I watched him walk away, a confusing mixture of emotions boiling inside me. Once again, I found myself crying. Not wanting to face Lane after all this, I pulled my jacket tighter around me, and went home.

_What have I done?_

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><p>AN: Wow. Intense. _Long_. Hope you liked it! :D Review!


	8. More Fighting

A/N: Loving the pace here! Let's hope I can keep it up! :D Enjoy!

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><p>That night, I barely slept, vacillating between crying and pacing frantically around my room. Luckily, Mom didn't seem to have heard me, because she never came down to make some sort of witty remark, or just tell me to shut the hell up and go to bed. She wasn't even home when I got back from the party, and I went straight to bed and pretended to be asleep, knowing that if I was "asleep," she wouldn't bother to ask me about the party until morning.<p>

It was Sunday, which meant that there was a good chance that I'd wake up before Mom did. In fact, considering my lack of real sleep, it was almost certain. That was probably for the best; I wasn't quite ready to face her, and I wanted to get things somewhat settled with Jess and Dean.

So, braving the inevitable lecture I would get for not waiting for Mom to wake up, I left my house at about 8:30, pulled on a jacket, and walked to Luke's.

To my surprise, the place was practically deserted, and Luke was pouring coffee for the only customer in the diner: Kirk. The eccentric, disproportional man looked up at my entrance.

"Well, hello there, Rory!" he grinned. "Didn't expect to see you for another two hours at least. You and your mom usually don't make it here on Sunday until lunchtime."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Mom likes to sleep in," I informed him, "but I wanted to come in early today." And I left it at that, turning to Luke, who had moved behind the counter. "Is Jess upstairs?"

"Nope," he said, going through a stack of receipts, not looking at me.

"Well... where is he?"

"Out," he said. "Left about fifteen minutes ago. Said he wanted to clear his head." At this, he peered up at me, his eyes narrowed. "I'll bet you know what that's about."

My face warmed, and I sighed. "Luke—"

"Forget it," he shook his head, going back to his receipts.

I couldn't tell if he was mad or just dismissive, but I took his advice, and ended the increasingly uncomfortable conversation there. After eating a chocolate doughnut and some coffee—it was probably a good idea to get some food in me now—I headed for the most likely place I would find Jess. Sure enough, when I arrived at the bridge, there he was, sitting on the edge, feet dangling over the water. He didn't look up as I approached, but muttered, "What do you want?"

"To talk," I said matter-of-factly. "About last night."

He sighed, and as I sat down next to him, I noticed a faint bruise under his left eye, and a cut on his bottom lip. I averted my eyes before he caught me staring, and took a breath so I could speak.

"Jess... why did you kiss me?"

His frown deepened. "Next question."

"Jess, come on!"

"I don't want to answer that right now, so move on to the next question."

"That's the only question I have."

He shrugged. "Well, guess you're gonna be disappointed then."

"Jess, please!" I half-shouted. "I want to know why!"

"Too bad," he growled, then he stood up and walked away. I watched him, stunned, for a few seconds, before jumping to my feet and following him.

"This is ridiculous!" I ranted as we walked back into town. "It's a simple question! I just want to know what it was that could have possessed you to ki... to do that," I amended, as we were approaching businesses _and_ busybodies very quickly. "And then maybe we can talk about this, and come to some sort of decision—"

"'Decision'?" he asked incredulously, whirling around to face me. We were now inside of Doose's Market (thankfully, Dean wasn't working), standing at the end of one of the empty check stands. "What's there to decide? It doesn't matter why I kissed you, because it was a mistake, and it ended up with Dean punching me in the face! **And yeah, what about Dean?**" he asked, giving me an accusatory glare. "Aren't you technically still with him? He certainly made a big show of possession over you last night. I've got the black eye to prove it!"

For once, I didn't know what to say. I stood there, staring at him, my mouth opening and closing repeatedly, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't come up with anything to say to him. After several seconds, his face hardened.

"Go back to your _boyfriend_," he spat. "You're wasting your time on me."

And with that, he turned and left the store. I wanted to cry, right then and there, but I was in public, so I forced myself to put on a brave face. Besides, though I had half a mind _not_ to go see Dean, just because Jess had told me to, I really did need to talk to him, too. So after a few cleansing breaths, I left the store and walked purposefully toward Dean's house.

I knocked twice, and waited, trying not to let myself worry about who would answer, or how they would react. A few seconds later, the door opened, and thank God it was Dean. His jaw twitched as he saw me, a sure sign that he wasn't happy. Not surprising. "We need to talk," I said.

"Yeah," he nodded, and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He brushed past me, walking down the front porch steps to the middle of the yard. I followed, bracing myself for his anger. This silent brooding was unusual for Dean, and to be frank, it was wigging me out a little.

Finally, I just blurted out, "Why did you punch him?"

"Because I hate him."

I rolled my eyes. "He didn't do anything."

"I _hate_ him," he repeated.

"Dean—"

He turned to me. "Rory, he's a jerk! God, why am I the only one who sees that?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's because it's all in your head? That maybe, for some strange reason that we'll get to in a little bit, you're making this up just so that you have an excuse to hate him?"

It was obviously the wrong thing to say; I didn't even know why I'd said it. But he looked so angry at that moment, that I almost wished I could take it back.

"I can't do this anymore," he mumbled.

My throat went dry. "Do what?" I asked, afraid that I already knew the answer.

"This. You. Us. The drama." He sighed. "I can't take it."

"The _drama?_" I repeated. "Dean, you _caused_ the drama this time! You're the one that punched Jess in the face for no reason!"

"He did something to you!" he said. "You came down crying! What was I supposed to do, just pretend everything was fine, that you weren't upset?"

"That's not what you said before," I pointed out. "You said you punched him because you hated him."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, that _was_ why. If I didn't hate him, I would have just threatened him, but I've been itching to beat the shit out of that guy for almost two years now. And I'm _definitely_ not sorry for finally doing it last night."

I stared at him in awe. "That's horrible."

He scoffed. "Well, I guess I'm a horrible guy, then. And you know what? I don't give a damn." He glared at me. "I'm sick of this. I'm sorry, but... we're done."

I didn't try to stop him as he went back inside. I didn't run after him, call his name, or even attempt to grab his arm. I just let him go, as I stared into space. It was the second time I'd been dumped by him. The difference now was that I didn't feel like my whole world was crumbling down into ashes and rubble. Now... I just felt empty. Cold. And yet... resigned. Dean and I were over. I knew I should probably feel sad, but... for some reason, I couldn't.

Numbly, I started walking, not stopping until I was home.

"Rory!" Mom said from upstairs as I came in the back door. "Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!" Her voice grew louder as she kept talking, and I heard her thumping footfalls as she ran down the stairs. I stood still, waiting for her to find me. She walked into the kitchen, and stopped when she saw me. Instantly, the anger dissolved. _Wow, I must look like crap_.

"Rory?" she asked quietly. "Honey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Dean broke up with me... again."

She stared at me. "What? Why?"

Couldn't she have started with a simpler question? "It's a long story."

Mom exhaled slowly, then gestured to the kitchen table. We both sat down, and she scooted closer, putting an arm around me.

"Tell me."

And suddenly, I was crying. I didn't even know _why_ I was crying. I wasn't upset over Dean, I knew that. Things hadn't been quite the same since we got back together. In fact, things hadn't been the same since... since Jess moved to town. And though it didn't really make sense to me, in some way, I had a feeling that Jess might have been the reason Dean broke up with me in the first place.

But _why?_

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><p>AN: Sorry for the short chappie. Good God, Rory's _so _stupid when it comes to love! Ugh. I'm just dying to throw in a sentence or two—or a paragraph—about her finally realizing that she FREAKING LOVES JESS right here, and I'm willing to bet you are, too... but it wouldn't fit with the theme of the video. Besides I've already kind of got a basic plotline set up, and... well, this isn't the right time. It'll come, though! And soon, I hope! _PLEASE REVIEW!_


	9. Wait, What?

A/N: Okay, I know that in the show, Sookie's wedding is technically supposed to be in May, but since this is an AU story, I'm moving it to June. Besides, I've already switched so many things around that it doesn't even matter. So there. :) Anyhow, here's chapter 9!

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><p>It had been over a month since I'd spoken to either Jess or Dean. I purposely made myself incredibly busy—I was preoccupied with finals and graduation, not to mention my recent acceptance into Yale—and just tried to stay in my house or Lane's when I wasn't focused on that. Mom certainly put a lot of effort into distracting me, too. She and I took a celebratory trip to Coney Island (which lasted only a few hours, as Mom got bored with it really quickly), and planned movie nights, shopping trips, and every so often, called me to help her at the inn. With all this going on, it was no wonder I had yet to see, let alone speak to, the two boys that had all but dominated my social life for the past two years.<p>

After graduation, Mom and I had to concentrate on planning Sookie's and Jackson's wedding, which was set for the fifteenth of June. Mom took care of the bachelorette party, Sookie and Jackson did the rehearsal dinner themselves, and the ceremony would be at the inn. Normally, that would mean that Mom would be in charge of it, but since she and I were bridesmaids, it ended up being Michel's responsibility.

The week preceding the wedding was the busiest, most stressful week of my life, even worse than finals. Eventually, though, all the arrangements were made, the tiny details hammered out, and everything was set.

Then, finally, the big day arrived.

While Mom was busy trying to calm Sookie down—she had a really bad case of pre-wedding jitters—I took a walk to clear my head. I'd felt very tense and uneasy since fighting with both Dean and Jess, and I couldn't figure out why. Lane suggested praying (sarcastically, of course, but when her mother overheard this, she bustled in, giving me a pamphlet, a lecture, and a crash course on prayer and connecting with God). Mom suggested a trip to a day spa, which never came through, since we had neither the time nor the money. Not if we still wanted to take our much-anticipated summer trip to Europe, that is. And personally, I valued Europe over mud masks.

I spent hours considering the cause—stress from the wedding, a lack of release from my finals/graduation anxiety, the excessive drama that had accumulated in my life in past months—and though they were all highly possible and definite contributors to my unease, none of them really seemed to be the direct cause. There was something else, some underlying issue I had yet to discover.

But _what?_

Tired of trying to decipher this unsolvable problem, I turned my attention toward my surroundings. The inn and grounds had been decorated and spruced for the wedding: tulle, ribbons, bows and flowers, and the grass was impossibly green. I made my way along the picturesque stone walkway, which crossed a nearby stream at first, complete with a little bridge, then ran alongside it. The many tall trees created a canopy of leaves, blocking me from the harsh, summer sun. I took a deep breath, slowing my pace and taking in the serene beauty that surrounded me.

And then I froze.

_It can't be_.

Unless my eyes were deceiving me, Jess was standing just a few feet away from the stream, hands behind his back, gazing intently at me. My pulse raced, and my feet seemed to move of their own volition, taking me toward him, not stopping until I was standing right in front of him. "**What are you doing here?**" I asked cautiously.

"**You look nice**," he said, nodding toward my blue bridesmaid dress.

I felt myself blush. "**Thank you. What are you doing here?**" I repeated.

He met my eyes. "I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"For everything," he sighed, looking down. "More specifically, I wanted to apologize for that last fight. I was just mad at Dean, and mad at myself for letting him get to me, and I sort of took it out on you. I shouldn't have."

I shrugged. "I understand."

"I would have talked to you sooner, but I haven't seen you for a while."

"I've been really busy," I hedged. "But it's okay, really." I gnawed on my bottom lip for a second before speaking again. "I'm sorry, too." He looked up in surprise. "This whole... fake-dating thing was a horrible idea."

His eyes tightened, but he gave a grin. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Well, yes, but... maybe if we'd come up with something else, Dean might not have asked me to stop talking to you. Then we wouldn't have had _that_ fight, which would never have led to the fight at the party, which would have resulted in us _not_ fighting yesterday at the bridge."

The grin turned into a subtle smirk. "Lots of fighting going around these days."

"Far too much for my liking," I nodded. "And it all could have been prevented if I hadn't suggested that stupid plan."

Jess looked at me carefully for several moments before saying thoughtfully, "I think it probably would have ended up happening, anyway."

I frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Look, I know you love Dean, but he's a jerk. He's been a jerk to me since I moved here, and even though you probably won't agree with this, but he'd been a jerk to you, too. That possessive, 'She's my girlfriend' crap, it's just his way of making sure you never find other options. Which you _do_ have other options. Much better options than_ him_."

I stared at him, not sure which comment to address first. Eventually, I decided that the most important one was the first one. "I don't love Dean."

His eyes widened. "You don't?"

"Not anymore," I shook my head. "And that's not going to change any time soon."

He looked like he was trying very hard not to smile. "Good."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Yep. You deserve better than him, anyhow."

"Thanks."

We were quiet for a while, and I started to feel the twitchy, awkward feeling you get when you feel like you should be saying something, but you can't think of anything _to_ say. I was saved, however, when Jess spoke first. "I need to tell you something."

That didn't sound good. "Okay."

He looked up at me. "I got a job at a bookstore in New York."

My insides turned to ice. "New York?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's part time, and the pay is crap, but it'll at least give me some money for the time being, and it does pay better than the diner. Not much, but still."

"New York?" I repeated with a little more volume.

"I talked to my mom, and she's okay with letting me crash until I can afford my own place, which, if I work enough, should only be a few months—"

"_New York?_" I nearly shouted.

Jess frowned at me. "God, Rory! _Yes_, it's in New York! What's the big deal?"

"You're moving back to _New York?_"

"I've said it like five times already!" he yelled back. "What, do you need a freaking diagram to spell it out for you?"

I stared at him, my mouth now hanging open. He seemed to realize what he'd said, and looked like he was about to apologize, but I cut him off before he could.

The surprising thing was... I didn't cut him off using any of the traditional methods. I didn't step in and start talking before he could; I didn't hold up a hand to signal that he didn't need to say anything; I didn't reach forward and cover his mouth. No, I did something far more stupid and outrageous.

I kissed him.

My body took on a life of its own, and suddenly, I was lunging forward, throwing my arms around him, and crushing my lips against his. And suddenly, that empty, achy, uneasy feeling I'd been having, was soothed and replaced with a warm glow, which soon turned into a familiar fire. Jess was quick to respond, and his hands found my waist, pulling me closer.

And just like that, my mind switched back on. What was I _doing?_ I couldn't just kiss my best friend because he told me he was moving away! What kind of sick farewell was this? It was wrong! It was unreasonable! It was preposterous!

I pushed myself away from him, the fire instantly turning back to ice. "**Oh, my god,**" I mumbled in a combination of disgust and bewilderment. I didn't meet his eyes as I turned away. "**Oh, my god**," I repeated.

"**Rory**—"

This was not good. Oh, god, what would people say if they found out? I'd never hear the end of it! In a split second, I made a decision. I whirled around. "**Don't say a word**!" I said quickly.

I'd never seen Jess look so hurt. It hurt me, too, almost as much as it confused me. Why did he have to look at me like that? I couldn't stand it anymore. I turned on my heel and ran, as fast as my legs would carry me. I circled the inn once, and then I heard music begin to play.

_Damn it!_

I ran faster, hoping I wouldn't be too late. Fortunately, I made it just in time. Mom glared incredulously at me as I skidded to a stop beside her. "Where the hell have you been?" she whispered. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Long story," I muttered. "Tell you after."

She sighed, obviously not happy, but handed me my bouquet of white and pink roses without saying anything else. We each took a breath, and started down the aisle...

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><p>The wedding ran smoothly, without a hitch, and at the end of the reception, Sookie and Jackson got into a hired limo and drove off to the airport. Flower petals were thrown (instead of rice, because apparently that's bad), Patty and Babette sang a Streisand medley at the top of their lungs, and Kirk ended up dangling from a tree, while a furious-looking dog barked up at him (where had the dog even come from?).<p>

I somehow managed to avoid any discussion with Mom until we got home. As soon as she stopped the car, though, she turned on me.

"All right, missy," she said sternly, "I believe you've got some explaining to do."

I sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tough," she snapped. "You're _going_ to talk about it. Where were you? I was about ready to send the whole wedding party out looking for you!"

"I was with Jess," I blurted out.

She blinked hard, staring at me. "Wait, _what?_ You went to the _diner?_"

"No, he was there," I clarified, and soon, the words just came spilling out. "I went for a walk while you were with Sookie, and I ran into him, and I don't know, I must have gone temporarily insane!" Mom frowned, obviously confused. _Join the club_, I thought. "We started talking, and he apologized for the fight—for all twenty million fights we've had in the past few months—and I apologized for fake-dating him and causing all that drama, and then he told me he was moving to New York! _New York!_ Who does that? Who just shows up to a wedding, and tells their best friend that they're moving to _New York?_"

"Jess, apparently," Mom pointed out.

"And when he told me that, I don't know, something snapped, and all of a sudden, I just kissed him!" I was going so fast now that I didn't even notice Mom's jaw drop almost to the ground. "And then I freaked out and ran away! I was just so confused and angry and hurt! And I couldn't figure out why! I've been feeling this way since that stupid party, and it's driving me crazy! **I don't like how I feel**! I feel sick, I feel insane, I feel like I'm not even me anymore! I _hate_ this!" I exclaimed despairingly, and chose that moment to get out of the car. I just wanted to get inside, go to bed, and forget this horrible, horrible day.

"Rory!" Mom called after me. I stopped at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her to catch up. "**Look**," she said as she reached me,** "nobody wants to say this any less than me, but... maybe you don't have a medical condition or a mental problem**." She paused, closing her eyes, as if whatever she had to say next was incredibly painful. "**Maybe, honey, you are falling for Jess**."

"_What?_"

"Well, you ran off with him and kissed him—we'll come back to that later—and then you say you feel confused and hurt because he's _leaving_... It just makes me wonder if maybe your feelings for him aren't as innocent as you think they are."

"But I..." I began, but my voice died partway through the sentence. I took a few breaths before trying again. "I can't... I can't fall for Jess. That's... well it's... I just _can't!_ He's my best friend!"

Mom looked at me apologetically. "Christopher and I were best friends, too."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out!"

She winced, but nodded. "True. It didn't turn out so good."

"Exactly! I can't fall for Jess because he's my best friend, and when you fall for your best friend, it doesn't turn out good!"

"Okay," Mom said quietly. "Then I guess you're just gonna have to get over it." She put an arm around me. "It won't be so bad. We're leaving for Europe in a few weeks, and then you'll be off to Yale, and you can just focus on getting the amazingly great education you're bound to get there. And maybe you'll meet someone there."

I nodded. "Maybe."

"Oh, angel," she cooed, kissing the side of my head. "I think I have some Rocky Road ice cream in the freezer. Want to pull it out and watch a stupid movie?"

I smiled appreciatively. "Rocky Road sounds good."

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><p>AN: This chapter actually gave me a headache. Oy. So, there's the "first kiss." Sort of. Not really. Meh. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! Did I mention, REVIEW? :D


	10. Anger and Heartbreak

A/N: I'M FINALLY UPDATING THIS STORY! I know, it's been forever! But I'm coming back to it, at long last! This chapter picks up at the end of the summer, right after Rory and Lorelai's European excursion. Happy reading!

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><p>"Rory!"<p>

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen my black dress?"

"Which blue dress?"

"The fancy one I bought in Paris. It's missing!"

"I haven't seen it."

"Damn it! I knew I forgot something!"

I shook my head and smiled; it just figured that the one item of clothing Mom had insisted on buying in Paris was the first thing she lost. I could hear her grumbling and pacing about her room upstairs, searching every nook and cranny for the dress, until at last, I heard a shout of triumph. "Found it! It was in my carry-on!"

"Why was it in your carry-on?" I asked, frowning.

"I think I was considering throwing it on before the plane landed."

"Why on earth did you want to wear your black dress off the plane?"

"_Because_," she said, her tone suggesting that it should be obvious, "glamorous people always wear glamorous outfits when they get off of planes, especially when they've just come back from Europe, which houses several of the best shopping districts in the _world!_"

I rolled my eyes. "My mistake," I deadpanned. "So why _didn't_ you wear it?"

Pause. "Uh, I guess I forgot. Oh, well."

Rolling my eyes again, I returned to my own unpacking. It was so nice to be home. Europe had been absolutely amazing, but I missed my house, my stuff, my town... I was glad to be back. And now, I had another adventure to look forward to: _Yale!_

I checked my datebook, going over my schedule for the next week. Mom and I had a lot of errands to run before orientation on Saturday, but since it was only Tuesday, we didn't feel too bad about putting them off for a few days. Thursday and Friday would be our busy preparation days, but tonight and tomorrow were our whatever-the-hell-we-want days.

Once I was done unpacking, I went to the closet and looked for something to wear that wasn't gross from the trip and didn't smell like airplane. I shoved some of my clothes to the side, then stopped, my throat tightening. The first thing I saw was my bridesmaid dress from Sookie's wedding... the dress I'd been wearing the last time I saw Jess. The last time I...

Blinking back tears, I quickly pulled the dress off the hanger, grabbed the box I had made with stuff pertaining to Jess, and frantically shoved it inside. In the process, the Pixies CD he'd bought me fell out of the box, clattering to the floor. I had barely listened to it, having put it away in an effort to hide it from Dean when he and I got back together. I didn't want to have to explain to him where I'd gotten it... and then have him destroy it out of sheer hatred toward Jess.

"Hey, do you think Sookie's home?" Mom's voice drifted into my room, coming closer as she approached my room. "She said something about an appointment today, but I thought maybe..." She trailed off, having reached my doorway, and now seeing me in a frozen state, staring at the CD. "Rory?"

I tried to move, I tried to make myself grab the CD and hide it away... but I couldn't do it. I just kept staring.

Mom sighed. "The Jess box?" she guessed. I didn't say anything, and she correctly interpreted my silence as confirmation. Sighing again, she moved to sit on my bed, next to the box. "I thought you'd gotten past all that."

Swallowing thickly, I said, "I was just putting the dress in it. No biggie."

"Then why are you staring at that CD like it's about to bite you?" I didn't respond, and she sighed for the third time. "Rory, come on. **I know you had this crush**—"

"**It wasn't a crush**!" I snapped. Mom's eyes widened, and I looked down, ashamed at my outburst. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"Rory," she said calmly. "It's okay to admit that you liked Jess. You know, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't think it would happen eventually."

That caught my attention. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she shrugged, "he was your best friend, you guys spent a lot of time with each other, you had a lot in common, and from the perspective of a mom who only wants the best for her daughter, you could have done a lot worse. At least I knew he treated you well. And... honey, I know you loved Dean. I liked him, too, at first."

"At first?" I repeated.

She bit her lip. "Right around the time Jess moved to town, I could kind of see that things were getting weird between you two."

"They were?"

"Well, yeah, didn't you notice?" I shook my head. "Huh. I guess love really is blind."

"What do you mean, things were weird?" I pressed.

"He just... started getting possessive. He called a lot more than usual, which I guess you were happy about... I thought it was weird. But I kind of just brushed it off at first. It's natural for a teenage guy to hold onto his girlfriend a little tighter than necessary, especially if he feels threatened by another guy."

This did not make any sense. "Why would Dean feel threatened?"

Mom stared at me. "You really don't know?"

"Know what?" I asked, almost shouting.

"That Jess was in love with you."

The world stopped. I couldn't breathe. I was having a hard time even comprehending what she had just said. My mind repeated the words in a continuous loop. _Jess was in love with you. Jess was in love with you. JESS WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU._

"No..." I whispered. "No. No, no, no."

"Rory?" Mom asked, concerned. "Honey, are you okay?"

_No! _"H-he didn't lo... he didn't... we were just..."

"Friends?" she finished when I couldn't. "That doesn't really mean anything, sweetie. People fall in love with their best friends all the time. That's how it works most of the time, in fact."

"But... but..."

"Now listen to me," she said, standing up. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. "God knows, I've never been particularly fond of Jess. But watching the two of you become such good friends, I started seeing what you saw in him. He's not such a bad kid. A little rough around the edges, yes, and far too apt to question authority, but deep down, he's got a good heart. And it wasn't very hard to figure out that he was crazy about you. Hell, he agreed to be your pretend boyfriend just so you could get Dean back! No guy in their right mind would do that for a girl who was 'just a friend,' no matter how much she begged him.

"And honestly, Rory," she went on, "I think, in the end, Dean kind of turned into a jerk. Between his asking you to completely cut Jess out of your life, and then being so quick to throw the first punch at that party... it may sound terrible of me, but I'm actually really glad you two didn't work out. I don't want my daughter with someone who holds that much anger and hatred."

I couldn't begrudge her that; by the time Dean and I had broken up the second time, I'd realized the truth, too. He was a jerk. He was possessive. And by the end, I was pretty sure he didn't even care about me anymore. He just wanted to get back at Jess, to prove that he was the winner.

And I fell for it.

"Rory?"

I swallowed hard. "Can I be alone for a minute?" I asked meekly.

Mom seemed reluctant, but nodded her head. She squeezed my arm gently before leaving my room, shutting the door softly behind her. I stood there for a long time, unsure of what to do, or even what to think. If what she'd said was true, Jess had been in love with me the whole time. And the more I thought about it, the more it all made sense. Mom was right; no guy would do something so crazy for a girl, unless he cared about her. A lot. More than he was willing to admit.

The realization left me breathless. _Jess loved me_. How could I have been so stupid?

Suddenly, I found myself striding across the front lawn, with no recollection of even leaving my room. I didn't stop, though, instead letting my legs carry me wherever they wanted. Inevitably, they led me to Luke's. It was getting late, so the diner was empty, other than the proprietor himself. I stormed in, making him drop an empty bottle of ketchup.

"Jeez!" he cried, whirling around to face me. He looked surprised when he saw me, and gave a little smile. "Oh, hey, Rory. How was the big trip?"

"I need Jess's number," I blurted.

Luke stared at me for a long time, clearly at war with himself, then he sighed. "Wait here," he instructed, then disappeared up the stairs. I did as he said, waiting quietly in the empty diner. A few moments later, he reappeared, with a piece of paper in his hand. He held it out to me, and I moved to take it, but he tightened his grip.

"Why now?" he asked.

I hesitated, not sure how to respond. Eventually, I settled for saying, "I miss him."

He sighed. "I don't say this very often, so you better remember it. I care about you, Rory. You know I do. But Jess is my nephew, and he has been miserable. If you hurt him again, I swear to God—"

"I don't want to hurt him," I insisted.

"That's not the point."

"I just want to talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because... I was wrong."

Luke's eyes narrowed for a moment, then his grip on the paper relaxed. I looked at the number, then at him. He gestured toward the door with his head, then turned around and went back upstairs. I didn't wait for any sort of explanation. I just _ran_.

When I got back home, I saw a note from mom on the door. _Went to get pizza and ice cream._ That was it. No lectures on leaving without telling her where I was going, no "call me when you get home." She must really feel sorry for me. Shaking my head, I brushed that thought aside and went into the house. I immediately grabbed the phone and took it into my room, closing the door. After several deep breaths, I sat on my bed and dialed the number.

It rang for a long time, then a familiar voice answered, "Hello?" I froze, my mouth hanging open, unable to form any sort of response. "Hello?" he tried again, but I still couldn't speak. A moment later, he hung up, and I heaved a dejected sigh. I lowered the phone from my ear, then plopped backwards onto the bed. _Pathetic_, I thought angrily. _All that trouble just to get his number, and what do I do? I choke. Pathetic_.

Fueled by frustration, I dialed the number again. He sounded a bit more agitated when he answered, but this time, I found my voice.

"Jess?"

There was a long pause, then, "Rory?"

I bit my lip. "Yeah." Silence. I wracked my brains for something to say. "Um... how are you?" _Oh, God. Totally lame._

"I'm... okay. You?"

"Same."

"Why'd you call me?"

Ouch. I hadn't expected him to be so blunt. Then again, it was Jess. He didn't beat around the bush. Even so, it stung. "I just... wanted to talk."

"Why?"

"Because I miss you," I said honestly.

He laughed humorlessly. "You miss me, huh? That's pretty rich, after you kiss me and then run away."

I cringed. "Jess, I'm so—"

"Look, before you run through your list of excuses, I've got something to say. You didn't hurt me, despite what you may think. In fact, you did me a favor. Any and all feelings I may have had for you were wiped away _completely_ after that. So you can just forget about talking to me and making amends, because I don't want to hear it." And then the line went dead.

Staring at the phone, I couldn't keep back the tears. Anger mixed with despair as I threw the phone as hard as I could across the room. I collapsed onto my bed, crying into my pillow. A moment later, I heard Mom's voice calling me, but I didn't bother replying. She'd find me eventually. Sure enough, she came into my room within a few seconds, and immediately sat on the edge. "Rory? What's wrong?"

"Jess... hates me," I choked out.

She frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"I called him... and he said... he didn't feel anything for me anymore."

Mom sighed. "Wow... that's twice, now."

"What?"

She looked at me seriously. "Twice, now, I've been wrong about him."

I had nothing to say to that, and a new wave of tears came over me. She stroked my arm, my hair, my face, then kissed my forehead, whispering that she'd save the ice cream and pizza for later. Then she left, probably to put the food away, and also to give me space. I was grateful; I needed to be alone. For a long time, I let myself just cry. Then, once I'd gotten control of myself, the sadness vanished, and was replaced with a burning anger. That jackass... he wasn't any better than Dean. They were both heartless jerks. From that moment on, I resolved not to bother with either of them anymore. They weren't worth it.

Wiping my eyes, I went into the kitchen, and found Mom wrapping the pizza in tin foil. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes betraying her shock. "You okay?"

"Perfect," I nodded. "I've decided to take this as closure. Jess is gone, and he's not worth my time, anyway. I'm going to focus on Yale, and getting the best education I can, and not worry about boys at all."

Mom stared at me in disbelief. "You really think that's going to work?"

"Yep," I said with a smile. "I don't need a guy to feel good about myself. In fact, it's these stupid guys that made me feel like crap in the first place. So I'm done with them. College is my priority now. As soon as I've graduated and gotten a job, _then_ I'll start looking for a relationship."

"Right," she said dubiously. "And what if you meet someone at Yale?"

I shrug. "I guess I'll figure that out if it happens. But I'm going to plan on that _not_ happening, and not worry about it."

She sighed. "Fair enough." After a few moments of silence, she said, "So... does this mean you're ready for pizza?"

Grinning, I helped her unwrap the few pieces she'd already wrapped, and we ate in relative silence, talking only when the subject included Yale, Europe, or Grandma and Grandpa, who were expecting a phone call from us in the morning. As more time passed, I felt better and better about my decision. School really was more important than boys. Soon, I'd be at the campus, in a dorm room, with roommates and classes and way too much to do. I wouldn't have time to think about Jess. I was confident that before long, he would be nothing but a distant memory.

If only I knew how wrong I'd been.

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><p>AN: Rory's starting to bug me. She's so out of character in this story. But to be fair, she's had a lot of heartbreak, so it's natural she should be stumbling a bit. She won't be so whiny in the future, I promise. Please remember to leave a review!


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